The Problematic Nature of Soulmates
by LyricalKris
Summary: So soulmates exist. And they're identifiable—some more easily than others. Was that really such a good thing? Two troubled souls meet and fall. If they aren't soulmates, aren't they only asking for trouble?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I wrote the first three chapters of this fic for charity. If you've read it already as part of that compilation, thank you for your generosity.**

 **I'm really excited about this one! Me being me, the idea of soulmates always sounded vaguely horrifying to me. The possibilities! What if, what if, what if. It's a beautiful idea** — **the one perfect person for you. It's the semantics that'll kill ya.**

 **Anyway. This story is the result of that line of thought. Heh. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Then:**_

"That's it, sweetheart. You're almost at the end of this one," Charlie Swan murmured against his young wife's ear, ignoring the steely grip she had on his hand. "Just a few seconds more, and you're done with this one. You never have to deal with this one again."

Renee huffed, rocking back and forth on the yoga ball. "Then the next one will suck even worse," she said with a moan. She sighed and collapsed against him, coming down off that contraction.

"Maybe." Charlie kissed her forehead tenderly. "But the doctor called the anesthesiologist. She'll be here before you know it. And then Bella will be here."

Renee threaded her fingers through his. "Our Bella." She sighed, more content this time, as though concentrating on that vision of the future. Their baby would be in their arms soon enough.

Charlie massaged her fingers, letting her rest. His mind, too, wandered to their baby. His little girl.

He was going to be a daddy. He'd all but given up on the dream, but here he was. Hours or minutes from now, Isabella Marie Swan would be ushered into the world, a brand new human being with an untold story.

And with her, the words that would echo in Charlie and Renee's heads.

Charlie wasn't the type who enjoyed complications. The soulmate conundrum was the bane of his existence—a flaw in the natural design of life. What the hell kind of useless knowledge was it for a parent to know their child's soulmate's first words, just the first sentence, to them? In his line of work, he'd heard some doozies. What was he supposed to think if, for instance, his daughter's soulmate's first words to her were, "You look like a filthy whore who deserves what she's going to get."

After all, Charlie knew from experience that being someone's soulmate didn't make them a good person. And aside from that, there was context. In a lifetime of possibilities, who knew the context with which the words would be spoken?

Then, there was the other fear. The unthinkable.

What if, when his child came into the world, Charlie heard nothing?

There were those who lived a full and happy life never destined to meet their soulmates. No one knew the science of it, whether or not a soulmate served some ultimate purpose in a person's life, whether they were worse off without ever meeting their one person. But in those cases, more often than not, the person was destined to die young if they lived at all.

His father had told him once of his sister's birth. She was born. She cried. But when he heard no words echoing in his head, his father had known the little one's ultimate fate. Sure enough, a birth defect took her only a few days later.

Renee sucked in a sharp breath, and Charlie shook his head hard. With a whimper, Renee began to rock on the ball again, turning her head against his neck. "I don't think I can do this."

"You got this, sweetheart. You're so strong. See all this? You think I could do this?" He scoffed, making a production of it. "Shake down a criminal—no problem. But this? No way. I'm too much of a candy ass."

Renee made a noise that sounded part snort and part groan. "Dammit. And I was going to ask you to do it for me," she muttered under her breath.

It was nothing more than normal, ridiculous anxiety plaguing his thoughts, Charlie consoled himself even as he soothed Renee. The baby would be fine. His wife would be fine. If anything was going to happen there wasn't anything to be done about it now. His only job right this moment was to not show how nervous he was, and to let Renee abuse his hand.

Four hours later, his hand was braced under Renee's leg, and he was murmuring nonsense to her as she keened, long and low under her breath, pushing, pushing, pushing. It was quiet chaos—surreal for as hard as his heart was pounding.

"There's the head." There was a flurry of motion down at the business end of things, and the amazing sight of a tiny head sticking out of his wife's body. "One more push," the doctor said.

Another push and Bella was born into the doctor's hands. She was rumpled and red and messy and just as she began to scream her protest at being brought into the cold world, Charlie heard one sentence echoing in the space between his ears. It reverberated, ringing clear even over his haze of confusion, amazement and joy.

"Fuck a duck!"

 _ **~Four Months Later~**_

"This isn't a good idea." Charlie ran a hand through his hair, pacing the foyer with his daughter clutched in his arms.

"Please don't start," Renee said, hands on her hips. "It's an hour. One hour."

"She's too young. We can wait—"

"Charlie. I need to get out of this house. One hour without a baby. That's all I want."

"I told you. You should go out. Have fun." Charlie untangled his daughter's tiny fist from his shirt and brought her hand to his lips. "I'll hang out with Bella."

Renee narrowed her eyes. "I want a baby-free hour _with_ my husband _._ Are you just going to forget about us? We're just parents now? That's all I get to be. Bella's mother. Which is great. I love being Bella's mother, but you get to be Bella's father, Police Commissioner Swan, and my husband."

"Can you please not exaggerate?" Charlie sighed. "Can't we at least get someone else? This kid is fifteen."

"And he'll be fine with the baby for an hour. One. Hour."

"He's a delinquent."

Renee snorted. "You really think any kid already in a little bit of trouble—and it's not like he's violent, Charlie, _you_ don't exaggerate—is going to be careless with the police commissioner's baby? She's probably safer with him than with most people. For fu…. For heaven's sake, she doesn't even crawl. It will be _fine._ My brothers babysat me all the time when I was her age, and they were thirteen and fourteen."

There was a knock at the door then. Charlie clutched his baby tighter. The initiative had sounded so good in theory. Help troubled kids find the value of being hardworking and trustworthy by giving them responsibility as they earned it. It was paid work, chores, or tasks given by members of the community willing to show these kids that they could still be trusted, and that maintaining that trust was more valuable than getting into trouble.

But, dammit, why had he agreed to this? There was a huge difference between letting a kid mow his lawn and handing over his precious child. Sure, the kid came with references. He'd supervised Officer Marks' three little hellions for an afternoon of play, but the youngest Marks was four, not four months.

Renee just rolled her eyes and went to the door. She shook a finger at him before she opened it. "Be nice. This is happening."

The door opened to reveal a teenage boy, his bronze hair too long for Charlie's taste, with a cocky smile that would have marked him as trouble if his child had been a teenage girl. Charlie hated him instantly.

Oblivious to that, the boy offered his hand. "Mr. Commissioner? Mrs. Swan? I'm Edward Cullen."

Smooth talker, this kid. Charlie's hackles raised. He stared Edward down and was rewarded when the kid's cocksure smile faltered and he took the smallest step backward.

Renee made an exasperated sound and stepped forward. "Hi, Edward. Thank you so much for doing this. You're a lifesaver."

Edward's eyes lingered on Charlie another few beats, obviously wary, but when he finally looked to Renee, his smile returned. "No problem. I like kids. I was always carrying my baby sister, Alice, around. She's two now. Prefers to run."

"See?" Renee bumped Charlie's side with her hip. "He has experience."

Charlie grunted. Bella cooed and then squealed, pitching forward in his arms, her pudgy hands reaching for the boy. Edward's grin turned huge, and he reached back for her. Charlie stepped backward. "I have questions."

"No. No, you don't." Renee took Bella, who was vocalizing her vehement protests at being kept away from the new face. Strange. She was usually very shy. "Here, Edward. We'll get out of your hair. Everything you need—"

But no sooner had Renee settled the squirming baby in his arms did Edward, stepping forward to receive her, trip. "Whoa." He stumbled forward and, to Charlie's horror, the baby started to fall.

Edward surged forward, catching Bella again before she could tumble. "Fuck a duck!" He looked straight into the giggling baby's eyes. "That was close, wasn't it?"

Fuck a duck.

Fuck a duck.

 _Fuck a duck._

"Nope. No. Not happening. Not on my watch." Charlie snatched his daughter out of Edward's arms.

"Commissioner, I—" Edward started, but Charlie grabbed him by his arm and steered him in the direction of the still-open door.

"Get out. I want you out of my house."

"But—"

"Out!" Charlie slammed the door behind the boy. He held his now bawling daughter to his chest and pointed at Renee. "Not happening."

"You really think you can argue with fate, Charlie?" Renee asked quietly, overcoming her own shock.

"Watch me."

* * *

 **A/N: To be clear, in this universe, when a child is born, their parents hear the first word their soulmate will speak to them. So Charlie and Renee know the person who speaks the magic words, "Fuck a duck," is Bella's soulmate.**

 **Heh.**

 **Many thanks to my team as per usual: MyOnlyHeroin, Betsy, Mina, Eleanor, and Packy for all their help!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: We're in a pre-cooking storm in casa Sanchez. How are you?**

* * *

 _ **Twenty-One Years Later**_

There was an Uber waiting for him when he walked out of the barbed-wire gates of the prison. Edward's step faltered when he saw the car. The man leaning against it stood with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, assessing Edward with an air of derision. Edward bit the inside of his cheek and kept moving forward.

Was this better or worse than seeing his stepmother's kind and patient but worried smile?

He picked up his step again, pressing his hands into the pockets of his crisp, new jeans—a gift his parents had left him so he wouldn't have to leave the prison in the ones he'd come in with seven years ago. All these years and so much trouble later, he still had the impulse to wear the old jeans, to reject the help they'd always tried so hard to give him. He knew better, though. He knew he needed the help. It was, after all, a miracle they were still willing to give it.

Given that he'd spent so many years telling them they shouldn't care, he had to admit it stung that they weren't here. They'd promised they would be.

Reminding himself he was thirty-six years old and he definitely didn't need a mommy and daddy—even if he did need benefactors—Edward made an effort to stand up straight as he stopped in front of the Uber driver. "I'm Edward Cullen. Are you here for me?"

The man stayed still with his arms crossed hard and his expression dubious as his eyes raked Edward up and down again. "You don't look like a punk."

Irritation flared, but Edward did his best to hang on to his humility. If this asshole left him stranded way out here, who knew how he was going to get home. Not as though he had any money on him or a phone. "It's a minimum security prison. I'm not dangerous."

The man scoffed but pushed off the car. "'S a long drive. Get in."

Edward had been a delinquent long enough to know not to expect much in the way of decency from anyone. He got in the back of the car. After attempting to engage in polite conversation only to be met with stony silence, he rested his head on the window and watched the scenery go by.

 _ **~0~**_

The driver whistled as they finally, _finally_ , pulled into his family's neighborhood. "Your family paid for a six hour round-trip day for me up front. Now I understand how." The driver glanced at Edward in the mirror, meeting his eyes for the first time. "How's someone so rich end up doing time?"

"Rich people get into some of the shadiest shit you can imagine." Edward bristled, but pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth before he could tell this guy off. How could Edward blame him for the thought? He was an idiot. His whole life was proof of that. "Anyway, it's not my money," he said as the car pulled to a stop in front of his parents' place—a legitimate mansion. He got out quickly and poked his head back in. "They tip you too?"

The man sneered. "Why? You got some on you?"

That was a good point. Of course, Edward didn't. So instead of answering, he straightened up. "Thanks for the ride," he said as he slammed the door shut.

Thankfully, the driver drove off right away and some petty part of Edward hoped he was ashamed. His car, while clean and obviously reliable enough, looked like trash in this neighborhood.

Edward was familiar with the feeling. He'd lived in this monstrosity of a house off and on since he was ten years old, but he'd never belonged here. His stepmother could dress him up in expensive jeans and a crisp, new shirt, but it wouldn't make him fit in now anymore than he had decades ago. Maybe even less so.

He was thirty-six years old, fresh out of prison, with not a damn thing to show for his miserable excuse of a life.

Taking a deep breath, Edward did his best to shake that thought off and continued up the long walk. There was both comfort and something so annoying about the fact nothing ever changed here. The garden along the walk was pristine as always.

There was a set of keys in the bag he'd been handed when he left the prison—one of the few things he had on his person when he was hauled away, along with the now-rumpled suit he'd worn to court. He could let himself into the house. His parents wouldn't mind.

It felt wrong, so he knocked. That felt wrong too but at least more polite.

When the door opened about a minute later, it was no one Edward knew. He took a step back, but the man's demeanor gave away his title and place in the household. A butler, because that was how rich his stepfamily was. "No way. Old man Jenks finally retired?"

The butler arched an eyebrow. "Sir?"

Edward cleared his throat. "I'm Edward. Edward Cullen."

The butler tilted his chin up and nodded. "I wasn't told to expect you, but that's about the way things are going the last few days. I know Mr. and Mrs. Cullen have been preparing for your arrival." He stepped back and gestured that Edward should come inside.

"They aren't here then?" Edward asked, an eerie feeling crawling up his back.

It should have made sense. Hadn't he been telling them all these years that they should forget he existed? That they'd made sure he had a roof over his head was more than he deserved.

But they'd said they'd be there, dammit.

"They may be home this evening," the butler said evasively. "My name is Eleazar, by the way. If you'll follow me, I can show you where the room they were getting ready for you is."

"Ah. No need, man. Thank you. I've lived here before."

The man nodded, accepting that. "I didn't want to assume. Let me know if you need anything, sir."

"Edward is fine."

Eleazar nodded again, and Edward turned away before the situation could get awkward. This kind of crap, being waited on and showed around a house, always put him on edge. It was worse now, but he supposed that was to be expected after seven years of being ordered around roughly at best. All this politeness was setting him on edge.

Couldn't take politeness, couldn't take rudeness. He was just another man angry at the world.

Edward made his way up the stairs to the room that had always been his. On the opposite side of the house from the master bedroom so he'd always had space, he'd always been welcome here. He was just ungrateful or stupid. Something was wrong with him, but there was nothing new about that.

Looking around the room, Edward rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar, odd anxiety creeping along his skin. This place had a feel to it—familiar and yet out of reach. Not for him, despite the presence of a few of his things.

It took him a minute to figure out why the sight of his guitar resting in the corner jarred him. With some shock, he remembered he'd never expected to see it again. Most of his possessions had been seized when he was arrested. He'd expected them to still be boxed up in some warehouse or sold at auction by now.

On further inspection of the room, not much had been salvaged. The important things were there, though. His guitar. A small box that contained everything he had left of his mother. A small statuette he'd bought in Spain on one of the few trips he allowed himself to take with his parents. A jumbled stack of his sheet music.

In the closet, he found more treasures—a small stash of his once extensive closet. He pulled out the familiar, worn leather jacket and ran his hands down it. His fingers twitched.

He appreciated Esme's gift of new clothes, but he hadn't worn his own clothes in seven years. He changed and slipped into the jacket even though the house was kept at a comfortable temperature all year long. A jingle caught his attention, and he slipped his hand into the jacket pocket. His fingers closed around a set of keys.

Did that mean his motorcycle was around here somewhere?

Restless, Edward began to wander the house, steering clear of Eleazar. There were usually a few other domestic workers around, but he didn't run into them. He was still surprised to see his picture on the walls and mantles—old photos mixed in with everything he missed.

He didn't belong here, but that didn't mean he didn't love his family. His heart ached as he spotted his stepbrother Emmett—elder by all of four months—grinning at the camera with a statuesque beauty wrapped in his arms, his head on her shoulder as he held her against his chest. Rosalie. He knew her only by name. Emmett's wife of three years. They were expecting their first child.

There was a picture of his little sister, Alice, on her graduation day, and one of the whole family, posed and beatific.

Edward turned away, gritting his teeth against the wave of loneliness that washed over him, returning to this empty house. He _had_ expected to be greeted warmly, even if he didn't deserve it.

Christ, he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself.

He wandered in the direction of the kitchen. Even though he hadn't eaten a damn thing since the day before, he wasn't hungry. He was aware his stomach was empty and panging, but he didn't care. Still, it was something to do.

In the kitchen, a neat stack of papers caught his eye. It was always strange to see anything out of place in this house. He wouldn't believe Eleazar was bad at his job. More likely, Carlisle or Esme had left the papers out and the workers wouldn't have wanted to presume they knew where to put them.

Edward didn't want to pry either, but his attention was caught by what rested on top of the paperwork—a bright pink, plastic bracelet.

It was the kind of thing kids wore—cheaply made. It was nothing his parents would wear for any reason he could think of. Maybe it was Alice's? But Alice didn't live here, and last Edward had seen her, this bracelet would be far too plain for her tastes.

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, spotting a small white sticker on one side.

Baby Cullen, it said. Embossed on the plastic was the name of the hospital where his stepfather worked.

Oh. _Oh_. Edward caught on, realizing suddenly why his parents weren't there to greet him. It was a bracelet the hospitals used to identify who could come visit a baby. Emmett had mentioned something about that the last time they'd spoken—how the doctor said he was the keeper of the keys, and could allow people in and out, three at a time. He'd thought it was funny they were going to give him a job when his wife would be the one doing all the work.

Had the baby been born then? It was early. Very early. Right?

What did Edward know about babies, anyway?

And if the bracelet was there, it meant that the baby wasn't brand new. There had been enough time for his parents to come home and leave the bracelet behind haphazardly, which would explain why Eleazar didn't have a place for it. That combined with the fact they hadn't been here to greet him—which really wasn't like them at all—pointed to signs of trouble.

Edward's heart twisted. Suddenly, he needed to be with his family. He tightened his hands around his motorcycle keys in his pocket and headed for the garage, hoping against hope that it would be there.

* * *

 **A/N: Next chapter we catch up with Bella!**

 **I hope the holiday season is treating all of you well. Why is it that come the holiday season, I decide I'm capable of making fancy dishes and desserts I've never attempted? Bah!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So the previous chapter should have read Baby McCarty, not Cullen. You know this is the second time I've neglected to correct it?**

* * *

Bella stopped when she got on the sidewalk in front of the hospital.

Why did it have to be this hospital? And why did it have to be for this?

She breathed in through her nose and out again, rebuking herself. This wasn't about her. This is what being part of the world was all about. She was trying to learn how to be a good friend, a valuable member of the community. Right now, her friend's family was in trouble. This family had shown her kindness and compassion for no reason other than it was part of who they were; she could return the favor without feeling sorry for herself.

Her father's voice echoed in her head. " _You're an adult, Isabella, and life isn't easy. Grow. Up._ "

She bristled, but he had a point. She squared her shoulders and walked into the hospital—the site of the worst day of her life—reminding herself that today wasn't her bad day.

She was barely one foot in the door before she stopped short again, spotting Emmett Cullen in what looked like a very intense, hushed conversation with a man she didn't know. He looked so unlike himself it made Bella's heart ache. A big bear of a man, Emmett was one of the most relaxed and easygoing people Bella had ever met. She'd never seen him not smiling before.

He wasn't smiling now. He looked haggard. He didn't look angry, though he was obviously arguing with the stranger. He looked more pained.

Though she knew she shouldn't be, Bella couldn't help herself. She was nosy. She kept walking until she was close enough to hear.

"Look, I'm sorry," Emmett said. "I really am. You know this isn't how I want things to be. But if Rose was conscious right now, she'd kick your ass out of here. I gotta respect that, man."

"Yeah. I get it," the other man said, his voice rough. "I just… I didn't know she felt that way about me. I don't know this woman, Emmett."

"I didn't want to tell you." Emmett rolled his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head a bit. "I kept hoping… I don't know. I thought we'd have a little time, and maybe she'd change her mind. She thinks…" He sighed and looked at the stranger, eyes narrowing a bit. "She thinks a lot of things, and she's not exactly wrong about them either."

"Like what? Like I'm a danger to your family?"

"Is she wrong?" Emmett held a hand up, stalling whatever the stranger was about to say. "I know you'd never hurt us physically, but come on, man. You can't say you don't do damage. How did you get here right now? On your bike, right?" The stranger grimaced and Emmett sighed in exasperation. "You literally just set foot out of prison and you broke a law to get here, driving with an expired license."

Bella took a startled step backward at the word prison. The motion caught both the men's attentions. They turned, and Bella froze.

It wasn't just that she was embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping. It was that when he turned, the stranger's eyes caught hers and something...happened. She was struck by him. Even twisted as they were, his features were… Well, she didn't know. It was as though his features had arranged themselves in just such a way that she couldn't help but stare. The cut of his cheeks, his chin, his nose. The green hue of his sad, tortured eyes. His hair—just long enough that it fell in a disarray that just worked. Everything about him just worked. In an instant, she was drawn by him, and that wasn't something that usually happened to her. It wasn't necessarily good or bad. It just...was.

"Oh, hey, Bella."

Bella blinked, startled as Emmett drew her into a quick hug. She used his consuming embrace to shake the weird sensation that had crawled down her back. "Hey, Em. Any news?"

He frowned, his eyes tightening at the corners. "They're both still breathing, so that's a thing." He hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. My baby...Henry's so little. So, so little. And Rose…" He gestured helplessly.

Bella squeezed his arm. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, but she knew better than most people sometimes that just wasn't how the story ended sometimes.

Emmett took a deep breath and managed a small smile. "Anyway, um. This is my little brother Edward." He gestured at the stranger, and Bella felt a little dumb. Edward. Alice had an older brother she'd mentioned was in jail—getting out soon. She'd been so excited.

"Hi," Edward said, his tone careful, but there was a strange look in his eyes. The odd sensation crept along Bella's spine again. Was it the old stereotype? He hadn't seen a woman in years outside a guard's uniform. Was it simple lust?

But as she shook his hand, warmth spread through her. She wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. "Hey," she said.

Inexplicably, his lip twitched, and his troubled eyes brightened.

"Edward, this is Bella. Alice found her. She's good people," Emmett said.

Bella scoffed, letting go of Edward's hand after a beat too long. "You make me sound like a stray."

"We're all strays here," Edward said. "Speaking of which, don't worry, big brother." He said the last two words sarcastically, but there was no bite behind them. "I'll get out of everyone's way."

"Hey, man. It's not like that. I can't let you see the baby, but Mom and Carlisle will be back any second." He looked to Bella. "Ali is with them too. Henry's got a full house. Rose's sister and her husband are here, but if you stick around, I can get you back to see him if you want to wait for Ali a minute."

"Um. Yeah. Sure," Bella said. _Awkward_.

Emmett looked to Edward, who'd begun to turn away. He caught him by the arm. "Really, bro. Stay. Just because Rose doesn't want you around doesn't mean the rest of the family doesn't want to see you. They were excited about you finally getting to come home."

Edward hesitated, and Emmett's eyes flashed. "Don't start this shit. My wife is in a coma, for fuck's sake. My kid looks like a bird that fell out of a nest. He's covered in wires. Can you please not start your drama right now?"

His mouth pressed into a thin line, Edward yanked his arm out Emmett's grasp. "Yeah. Whatever. No drama." He moved off to the side, where a few, surprisingly comfortable looking, couches sat near the hospital's entrance. "I'll wait down here, far away from your kid." He dropped heavily onto a couch, draping his arms over the back.

Emmett looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he made a disgruntled noise and turned to Bella. "There's a little waiting room upstairs if you want to wait there."

Bella had to struggle not to look over to Edward. The message he must have heard was clear. She, a stranger to him, was welcome like part of the family. He was an outcast for whatever reason. Just the prison thing? Alice had said it wasn't anything violent or perverted. "I, uh… I'll wait down here. I mean…" She shook her head, hating how out of sorts she felt. This was such an awkward situation for a lot of reasons. "I was going to get something from the giftshop anyway. I'll just take my time."

"Okay." he nodded his head in the direction of the elevators. "I gotta get back there. Rose is alone. I know she's sleeping, but it feels wrong."

"Hey, Emmett," Edward called as his brother started to walk away.

Emmett tensed, but he turned back to Edward, his expression wary. "Yeah?"

"Did you hear the words? When Henry was born?"

The soulmate words. Bella's heart ached. She closed her eyes and waited for the worst.

"Yeah," Emmett said, his voice shaky now. "Didn't understand them. It was another language. Isn't that something?"

The two brothers exchanged a look and Emmett nodded. "Thanks."

It wasn't a guarantee—the scientific understanding of the nature of the soulmate sentence was imprecise at best—but it wasn't a death sentence either. There was some comfort there.

When he'd gone, Bella went to the giftshop. She hadn't been lying. She'd had every intention of stopping there first. That was what she was supposed to do when someone was in the hospital—bring them something to cheer them up. The flowers here were expensive though, and she wasn't sure what good they were going to do. Rosalie was comatose. Were flowers really going to help? A balloon that said Get Well Soon? None of it sounded right.

As for the cute baby things, those too seemed macabre for an infant in the NICU. And, again, if she'd been shopping on Amazon, she was sure she'd be saving a hell of a lot of money.

"That's a lot of concentration for a simple onesie," a low voice came from near her ear.

"Gah." Bella jumped and whirled around, the tiny onesie clutched to her chest. "Edward."

"Sorry." He raised both his hands in a placating gesture as he took two steps backward, out of her personal space. His tone was sincere, but there was some amusement in his eyes. "I said your name a second ago. I thought you might be ignoring me."

"Why would I do that?"

He shrugged, his hands in his jacket pockets. "People have their reasons."

"People are dicks." With a frown, Bella hung the little onesie back on its rack. "This stuff is too rich for my blood."

Edward snorted. "I feel you on that one. What they want to charge for a candy bar is criminal."

As though in emphasis, his stomach gurgled. Edward's cheeks went pink.

Bella had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. "That sounds like you need more than a candy bar."

"Yeah, well." He looked away. "I found a few dollars in my pocket. That's not going to get me far."

She tilted her head, taken aback. "Emmett wasn't kidding, was he? You literally just got out of prison." He ducked his head, and Bella winced. "Sorry. That was blunt. It's not like I care, or that it's any of my business."

"What's true is true," he said with a small smile. "Yes, they say I've paid my debt to society as of this morning. Mostly. Still have a PO and all that, but here I am." He studied her. "Not everybody believes in that kind of thing. That an ex-con can ever pay enough for what they've done."

"People are dicks," she repeated.

He shot her a devilish look. "You think Rosalie is a dick?"

She scoffed. "I don't want to speak ill of the ill, but yeah. Frequently." She sobered. "I think Rosalie has a better reason than most to not like anyone who's been to jail. But you're not a violent offender, so…"

"How do you know?" He was gently teasing, but there was a tightness to his expression.

She just knew. She knew it to the marrow of her bones. "Alice told me. She didn't tell me anything else." She shrugged as though rolling that awkward conversation off her shoulders. "Anyway. Do you want some breakfast? There's a cafeteria here, right? Hospitals have cafeterias."

"Sure, but if you think candy bars are expensive..."

Her cheeks heated, but she looked him in the eyes. "My treat."

Shock registered visibly on his face. "You don't have to do that."

At that, she had to smile. "I don't do anything I don't want to do. No gun held to my head." She gestured on her way out the door. "It's just a little breakfast. Your day has sucked so far, I think. You should at least get bacon out of it."

"Bacon." Edward rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "Before prison, I wouldn't have thought it was possible to mess up bacon, but they managed it."

"Cruel and unusual punishment, if you ask me. So?"

He nodded slowly. "Emmett was right about you being good people."

"Everyone's a dick about something." She fell into step beside him as they made their way out of the shop and toward the hospital's cafeteria. "Anyway, I have a nosy question."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Edward stiffen. "Seems like the least I can do," he said, sounding tired again.

He probably expected her to ask more about his criminal status, but that was way too rude. "I missed how you're actually related to Alice and Emmett? Like, you're a Cullen, but… Something doesn't add up. Emmett is older but not a Cullen?"

"Oh." He laughed. "That's a question without a simple answer." He faced forward, not looking at her when he spoke. "The long and short of it is that Carlisle married my mother to help her get away from my father. It didn't work very well, because my father killed my mother."

Bella stopped short. "Holy… That's… That's terrible."

"Yeah," Edward said quietly. "But, in any event, they changed my name to Cullen, which is why I'm a Cullen. And Carlisle kept me after all that."

"So, that's why he's your stepfather."

Edward nodded. "He married Esme a few years later. She already had Emmett, which is why he's a McCarty. They adopted little Mary Alice at birth."

Bella saw the tenderness in his smile when he spoke of his little sister. Alice too had always spoken of her elder brother with fondness, even though he'd been away so long.

Edward finally looked at her, a smile on his face that didn't match the look in his eyes. "So, I don't really belong to anyone, I suppose, but here I am anyway."

They walked in silence a few more steps into the cafeteria. Bella nodded. "I get that," she said softly.

She knew exactly what it was like to be the black sheep of the family—the one who didn't quite fit in.

* * *

 **A/N: Happy New Year, friends. 2018 was an incredibly hectic year for me, but I did get my baby girl out of it. No complaints even with the complications. Here's to hoping 2019 has good stuff in store for all of us.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hola amigos!**

* * *

Options.

Edward was momentarily taken aback at the realization he had options for breakfast. The hospital's cafeteria was small, but they had a decent selection. There was bacon, as Bella promised, but also turkey bacon, sausage—both patties and links—biscuits and gravy. There were six different types of bread to choose from for toast. There was yogurt with a selection of fruit and granola to put in it. There was a selection of dry cereal with a selection of milk from whole to almond. Orange juice or coffee? Oatmeal or cream of wheat? Hell, there was even an employee manning the griddle, toasting a breakfast sandwich for a nurse.

He spotted a small sign indicating they could order hamburgers as long as the grill was open. His mouth watered. It had been so long since he'd had a thick, juicy hamburger.

"You're concentrating really hard," Bella observed, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"I thought hospital food was supposed to be almost as bad as prison food, but this looks pretty good. Still, I'm not sure this place is the best choice for my first burger on the outside. Do I really want to ruin that experience?"

She looked bemused. "That's a question only you can answer. Get whatever you want. I'm having bacon and eggs. Classic. You can't go wrong with bacon and eggs."

"You have a point."

A few minutes later, they sat down with their bacon and eggs. Bella had toast on the side. Edward had opted for a small bowl of cream of wheat with a splash of milk and a packet of sugar poured into it. The first spoonful, warm and sweet, was so comforting, Edward almost groaned. He sighed, remembering it was one of the only meals he could never hide from Carlisle that he liked. His stepfather tried so hard, but Edward had been such an angry child. Almost every meal set in front of him was dismissed as disgusting.

"So, let's get it over with," Bella said.

Edward furrowed his brow, perplexed. "What?"

"The inevitable conversation."

At that, Edward had to hide his dread. Of course. He knew she had to be curious. He ate another spoonful, stalling, sure she was about to ask him how he ended up in prison.

"What are your words?" she asked.

He blinked. "What?"

"Your soulmate words."

For another beat, he stared, and then he laughed. He ran a hand over his eyes. "Jesus Christ. I can't even remember the last time anyone asked me that question."

"Really?" Her eyebrows arched.

Out in the real world, it was, as Bella had indicated, an inevitable small-talk topic. The soulmate words could be so interesting. As Edward knew from first hand experience, even the mundane ones made for a good icebreaker. And, if the person had already met their soulmate, that opened the conversation up to more stories.

"I don't think anyone's really interested in finding their soulmate in prison," Edward mused. That could be a nightmare. Imagine growing up knowing your soulmate's first words to you were some of the cruel words exchanged even in a minimum security prison. That would be an awkward conversation for someone's mom and dad growing up."

"It's happened. It would be one to tell the grandkids." Bella grinned. "'I met your dad when he got transferred to my block.' Hell of a meet-cute."

"Oh, yeah. It would be adorable." He chuckled wryly. "Well, I suppose it's possible I met my soulmate in prison. Not likely, though, me not being gay." The platonic soulmate wasn't unheard of, but it was unlikely in this case. It wasn't as though anyone went to prison to make friends.

"So? Let's hear it. What are your words." She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, man. Your mother didn't die before she could tell you, did she?"

"She told me before she died." Edward sighed. "For as little good it did. Mine is so generic as to be useless. Hey. That's it."

"A standard greeting. Damn."

"Very standard," he agreed. It hadn't escaped his notice that Bella's first word to him had been hey. He had to admit, it had given him a thrill that made his pants tighter but who could blame him for that? She was a pretty woman. It had been a long time since he'd seen a pretty woman, let alone been close enough to touch one. "So, what are yours?"

She scoffed. "Not nearly as interesting as yours." She grinned. "Fuck a duck."

"Fuck a duck?"

She nodded, and he laughed. "I always thought that was a weird phrase. Fuck a duck. I had a friend in high school who used to say that all the time, but it's a weird greeting. Well, you can't mistake that one."

"You'd be surprised," she muttered. Her eyes met his briefly, and she sighed, putting down her fork to wrap her arms around herself. "When I was in third grade, this new kid came up to me. Jacob. He was singing one of those stupid songs kids make up. This one was to Row, row, row your boat except he was singing, fuck, fuck, fuck a duck. He grabbed me by the hands and sang it right to my face. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck a duck, screw a kangaroo.' Just messing around, you know. Obnoxious little boy."

She shrugged. "When I was younger, I thought we were going to be one of those friends-soulmates. But then we were teenagers together."

"No suppressing the hormones, I'm guessing."

Her smile was surprisingly sad, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her in comfort. "Yeah. Exactly." She took a deep breath and shook her head, making an obvious effort to sit up straight. "It took me forever to realize that he hadn't said my soulmate words. Fuck, fuck, fuck a duck is what he said. My sentence is just fuck a duck."

"The semantics will drive you nuts." He took a bite of bacon, savoring the flavor. It distracted him from his desire to ask one of the many questions that came to mind as he watched her. He got the feeling things had ended badly. Just the way she held herself when she talked about it, how she seemed to shrink, spoke of pain. He wanted to know, but he didn't want her to hurt. Anyway, it was none of his business.

"The whole soulmate thing is more trouble than it's worth," she said.

"You think?"

"What was the word you used? Semantics? I hate the idea something is inevitable. What good is knowing something about the future? People spend their whole lives waiting for it or worse, they structure their lives around it. You've heard the stories. Parents who feed the soulmate sentence to the people they want their kids to date.

"And then you meet this soulmate, but so what? Finding the yin to your yang doesn't help much when your yin is emotionally stunted due to a traumatic childhood. There's no guarantee your yin isn't a pedophile."

"The soulmate sentence caused you trouble already, didn't it? You grew up thinking you had a deep connection with a guy. Why would you think to look at anyone else when you already knew he was the one?" He fixed her with a questioning look.

The skin around her eyes tightened, and she ducked her head. "Exactly."

"Didn't end well," he said, reading her body language.

"No. No, it didn't."

"Well, I don't know if it's any consolation to you, but I think most people's high school relationships didn't end well, with or without the complication of the soulmate stuff." He chuckled, thinking about the disastrous relationships he'd had in high school and beyond.

"Talk about knowing the future," she said, and they both grinned.

"I read a study once that hypothesized the soulmate sentence had less to do with relationship compatibility than overall survivability. Soulmates make the best babies."

"Evolution?" Bella's expression turned thoughtful. "Putting the information in the hands of parents isn't the best idea, though. Parents can lie."

"Yeah. I've thought about that. What if my mother lied? Not like I can ask her." He put his elbows on the table and leaned in. "I did wonder. There was this man. I mean...his first words to me were, 'you're a little bitch, aren't you' but, well, we got stuck on the same detail. We got to know each other a little better. It was strange. He seemed to understand me on this level no one ever has."

Her eyes were huge. "Are you serious?"

"No," he deadpanned.

She blinked. And he couldn't hold his grin back. He laughed as her look of shock turned into a not-too-serious scowl. "You're a terrible person," she said, shaking a piece of bacon at him.

"That's becoming a popular opinion around here," Edward said with a frown. It bothered him more than it should that his brother's wife hated him.

"People are dicks," she reminded him, her expression gentling.

"And even dicks have soulmates is what you're trying to say."

"Hitler had a soulmate. And it was great when it was just them, but at the end of the day, your soulmate is still Hitler." She shrugged.

He tilted his head, watching her for a few beats. "So, where does that leave you, then? Romantically, I mean. Do you sit back and wait for the one or do you play the field in the meantime?"

What the hell he thought he was doing, Edward had zero clue. He knew damn well he had no business flirting with this woman. He was surprised he remembered how. Seven years was a long time.

But, the shock that flitted across her face was worth the humiliation of the inevitable shut down. He wasn't really being serious. He'd simply discovered he liked watching her reactions. Her expressions were so clear. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

Bella laughed once and ducked her head. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I don't have a plan. It hasn't really come up since I got rid of the Jacob appendage."

"How long ago was that?"

"Four years. Almost five."

His eyebrows made for his hairline. "Are you trying to tell me no one's asked you out in five years?"

She held his gaze a beat longer before she straightened up and leaned back. She draped her arm over the back of her chair. "No one's asked me out who's had a snowball's chance in hell in five years. No need to figure out how I feel about dating or, you know, whatever, until there's someone worth thinking about."

Her words were as cocksure as her smile, but her cheeks were bright with a pink blush.

Their gaze locked, and lightning raced down his spine. The hairs of his arms stood up, and the air around them heated. Edward was suddenly very aware how long it had been since he'd been this close to a woman who wasn't in some position of authority over him. Accessible. Touchable.

He did want to touch her.

"Edward?"

Edward actually jumped at the sound of his name. He got to his feet just in time as a dark-haired blur launched itself into his arms. He huffed out a breath and laughed, his heart aching and growing a few times too big for his chest all at once. "Hi, little sister."

"We went to the house but you weren't there," she admonished.

"I'm sorry we weren't there to meet you. We wanted to be there," another voice said.

Edward raised his head, keeping Alice in his arms as he looked up to see Carlisle and Esme coming toward him, both of them smiling. Another rush of warmth washed over him at the sight of his parents. Carlisle put an arm on his shoulder and Esme ruffled his hair.

He was glad, then, that Emmett had called him out on his initial impulse to get as far away from the hospital as he could. Don't start your drama, his elder brother had said. It didn't matter that Edward didn't understand why, after everything he'd put them through, his family wanted to see him. No matter what Rosalie had to say in the matter, the rest of them still wanted him.

With a start, he let go of his family, looking around. He frowned when he realized somewhere in all the commotion, Bella had disappeared.

 _ **~0~**_

Edward sighed, closing his eyes at the feel of soft fingers in his hair. To this day, Esme Cullen made him feel like a child. Not in a bad way. It was just that he could remember the best time with his real mother. The rare times when she held him and cuddled him, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing a tender hand up and down his back.

He'd been a long time without tenderness. His family had visited him in prison, of course, but there was a limit to how they could touch him. Esme stayed back with Edward on the couch in the main lobby while Carlisle and Alice went to see baby Henry. Esme had sat down next to him, an arm around him, and she hadn't stopped petting him.

"This is good. Seeing you out here in the world." Esme mussed his hair and then combed it back into place. She cupped his cheek, patting him gently and looking into his eyes. "So, what do you think? Straight and narrow?"

He sighed. She was so gentle, her scolding didn't even annoy him. More than anyone, his parents had the right to say these things to him. He closed his eyes tightly, swallowing down the knot of his shame in his throat. He raised his head and forced himself to look Esme in the eyes. "Straight and narrow," he promised.

Pat. Pat. Pat. "And you'll let us help you?"

Another sigh. "I'm here."

Not that he had anywhere else to go.

He closed his eyes again and allowed himself the indulgence of resting his head on her shoulder. As he listened, Esme did what Esme did best. She started planning, making lists of things he needed to do and think about.

"You're a smart boy," Esme said.

He scoffed. "Boy. Sure."

"You're still a young man with the world at your feet."

"Yeah. People love felons, I hear."

"Edward," she admonished.

He bit the inside of his cheek. "Sorry."

"You're educated, so there's that."

He hummed acknowledgments to her plans and advice as she spoke, feeling way more tired than he had a right to. Prison had sucked. Sure it was minimum security prison, but it had still sucked. Hard. He was actually a very smart man, and he knew damn well his super-rich family and their seemingly endless capacity for love and forgiveness was his best shot at rehabilitation.

He wanted a normal life. He'd always wanted a normal life. Anger and resentment had gotten in his way every time. Even now—seven years of his life gone because he never listened to people who only wanted the best for him—resentment threatened to choke him.

Why did they think they could fix him? Make him like them? He wasn't like them. He would never be one of them. He would never fit in.

"Hey."

His lip twitched. He'd forgotten what it was like to hear his soulmate word all the time from delightfully female persons. And this particular female…

"Hello, dear," Esme greeted Bella, standing to give her a hug.

"Hi, Es."

Interesting. Bella was close enough to Esme to call her by a nickname. That was weird considering she was the mother of a friend. Unusual.

The woman made him curious.

"I need to get to class," Bella said. "Emmett was hoping you'd come up. They said there's some activity? With Rosalie."

Esme's expression brightened. "Oh. That's great. That's fantastic." She looked to Edward, her expression tightening.

"Don't worry about me." He made an effort to smile. "I'll meet you guys back at the house.

"Rosalie… Pregnancy is a strange time. Rosalie got a little paranoid, that's all." She took a deep breath. "She's going to wake up. She and Henry are going to be fine, and we'll talk to her about you. Everything is going to be fine."

"Sure."

Esme patted his cheek. "It's really good to have you back."

At that, his smile was genuine.

Bella lingered as Esme walked away. Edward couldn't help but admire her in profile. He liked the shape of her and the way her hair hung down. He wanted to twirl her hair around his finger, and—

Edward blinked as Bella turned to him, clearing her throat. "It sucks that Rosalie didn't want you to see Henry. Doesn't make any sense, either. It's not like she can avoid you when you're in the same family."

"Yeah, well. Not much I can do about that."

She bit her lower lip, bouncing in place, obviously agitated. She huffed. "Okay. This is… I shouldn't be doing this, but.." She rolled her eyes. "I cuddle babies. Here. In the NICU. It's a thing. It helps them. I have to get to class, but I can get you in to see him. Your nephew. If you want. Introduce yourself. Hold him for a few minutes."

Before he could process that, she shoved a piece of paper at him. "I really have to go. Just call me if you're interested. I'll see you around."

He stared at her retreating form. He wanted to go after her, but his tongue was tied.

She felt significant, and he didn't know what that meant. He looked down at the paper in his hand—her number.

He was going to figure it out.

* * *

 **A/N: Some answers. How are we doing out there in fanfic land?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hola, amigos! Let's do this!**

* * *

The first of the three calls Bella received that Saturday came from her father. To be more accurate, they came from her father's office.

"Hey, Bella, sweetie. How you doin'?"

Bella pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and counted to five. She recognized the voice of Austin Marks. The man was just a few years older than she was, but he'd always been a kiss ass when it came to her father. It had paid off for him too. These days, he was pretty high up in his staff. More power to him, but Bella hated his placating tone. "What did I do now that my father wants you to set me straight about?"

"Oh, Bella." Austin laughed. "No, it's nothing like that. The senator just wants you to know, in case you felt obligated to come to your stepsister's wedding, you don't have to worry about it. You're off the hook."

Bella had been scrolling through Facebook on her phone but stopped as she processed those words. She huffed. "He doesn't want me there. That's what you mean."

"No. Of course it's not that. You know the senator wants—"

"I'm going to be there." Bella tilted her chin up though he couldn't see her. "Of course I'm going to be there. I wouldn't miss my dear sister's big day for the world." She hung up and threw the phone down on the bed, her jaw clenched.

She knew deep down her father loved her. She understood his world, being somewhat in the public eye, was different than most. But he always managed to piss her off.

Being angry was better than feeling useless, worthless. She knew he didn't mean to make her feel like that, but he was damn good at it.

Her phone rang again and she stared at it balefully. She arched an eyebrow at it when she saw it was Leah herself calling. She'd expected Austin to have another try at convincing her. Apparently, her father had gone for the big guns.

She sighed. Better get this over with. "Leah?" she said, connecting the call. "Look, I can figure why you're calling, and if you don't want me to be there, I won't go. I have no interest in ruining your big day."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then a sigh. "I know that. That's why I'm calling. Screw him."

Bella paused, unsure she'd heard what she thought she'd heard. "Wait. What?"

"Your dad. With all due respect, screw him. He's lost his perspective. And, I mean, I get it. But it's been a long time since we were girls at each other's throats. It's been a long time since you…"

"Made a scene?" Bella suggested when Leah didn't continue. She pressed her palm to her forehead. "He still thinks I'm seventeen." She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Though I guess that's the preferable option, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Leah. Let's be honest. I know I'm just a leftover responsibility." She swallowed hard, worrying her blanket between her fingers. "He and your mom are a hell of a match. A power couple. Both big names in politics. They have you, a doctor. And Seth. Boy-next-door charm in a handsome, Hollywood leading man? Even your Sam—overcoming the background he had to be a successful businessman." She blinked hard, her eyes stinging. "Why would anyone want to ruin such a perfect picture by adding me into the mix?"

There were a few beats of silence on the other end of the phone. To her credit, Leah didn't argue. "Yeah, well. Like I said, screw him and screw that."

Bella dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, wondering what the hell was happening here. "Leah, you've never been my biggest fan. What's going on?"

Her stepsister sighed. "Yeah. Look, you know Sam grew up with Jacob. Well. Not so much Jacob as the rest of them. Small town boys with similar backgrounds. I didn't think there was any excuse for them to turn out the way they did."

And Bella had even less excuse, Leah didn't need to say. Her father was wealthy. There wasn't a single opportunity he couldn't give her. But money wasn't everything

"It wouldn't have taken much for Sam to end up like them. Anyway, I was young and you were younger. We're not those people anymore. Weddings are about love and family. You're family. That's all I need to know. If you don't want to come, that's cool. I just wanted you to know. I'm the bride, and I don't give a damn about his political image or my mother's for that matter. You're family. You have a place there."

Bella sat still on her bed long after she'd hung up her phone. Leah's call had thrown a wrench in her quiet fuming, but she was still angry enough that her thoughts were vindictive. Hadn't her father figured out by now the quickest way to invite trouble was to assume it was a given?

Leah was also right. It had been many years since Bella had caused a scene at one of her father's events. Then again, it had been many years since she'd been to any of his events. Having her there would remind reporters she existed, and her past wasn't exactly squeaky clean.

She had no desire to cause a scene, and she didn't hang around anymore with anyone who would. She wouldn't, however, pass up an opportunity to make her father squirm in his self-righteous seat.

Which was why she was almost gleeful when a text came in later that afternoon from a number she didn't recognize.

Unknown Number: Hey. This is Edward Cullen. You gave me your number?

She didn't bother to text back but hit the call button. Edward sounded uncertain when he answered. "Hello?"

"You are the answer to everything," she said by way of greeting.

He paused a beat. "What?"

"How do you feel about weddings?"

He paused for three beats. "What?"

She had to laugh. The poor man sounded downright frightened. "I guess I started that conversation in the middle."

"You think?"

"Sorry. Let me try that again. Let's start at the beginning. What were you calling about?."

"No, no." He gave a short, bewildered laugh. "Why am I the answer to everything? And what's this about weddings?"

"Not weddings. Just one." Bella tossed the book she'd been studying on the desk and tossed herself down on her bed. It was beginning to sink in to her that Edward was a near total stranger. He must think she was nuts. "Nevermind about the wedding. I was just kidding."

"Tell me," he said, his voice so gentle it made her heart ache a little.

And there. That was why she had forgotten they were strangers. His simple request was all it took for her to speak. "My dad… He's Charles Swan. Maybe you've heard of him?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar," he said, sounding uncertain. "Maybe."

"He's married to Sue Clearwater-Swan. He's a senator. She's in the House."

"Jesus. Even hearing that makes my ass clench."

"Right?" She sighed. "I told you I'm the black sheep of my family. I'm just not a good senator's daughter. I wasn't horrible. Never a gangbanger or anything like that. I was more of an embarassment. Just that little bit of troublemaker that my father got a call or two from the police station when I was a teenager. I was lucky I never ended up in juvie or worse, in jail. My dad had connections. But I was a nightmare for a Democratic politician for a lot of reasons.

"Anyway. That was years ago, but I still can't manage to do anything right in my dad's eyes. My stepsister is getting married. He had one of his lackies call me to let me off the hook—make sure I knew my presence wasn't required."

"You mean he'd prefer you didn't go," Edward supplied, likely catching the acerbic tenor of her words.

"Exactly."

"But you want to?"

"Eh, I don't know. Six of one, half a dozen of another." She stared up at the ceiling and rubbed the ache in her chest. "I like the idea of being a good daughter, a good sister in this case, but being there makes me so tired."

"Yeah." He huffed. "I get that. Story of my life." He paused. "Wait, so... What does this have to do with me being the answer to everything?"

"Oh." Bella felt her cheeks heat. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I really was kidding, mostly."

"About?"

"Well, it sounds shitty now that I'm actually thinking about it."

"Did you want to bring me as a big fuck you to your dad?"

His tone was teasing, but she groaned anyway. "Agh. My dad likes to tell me to grow up. It's not like I think you're trouble. I don't. And I wouldn't want to bring trouble to my stepsister's wedding. I think you'd be respectful. It's just the idea."

"Can't get around the fact I'm fresh out of prison. And the age difference alone would get under his skin, right?"

She scoffed. "It'd be hypocritical. Not that that would stop him. My mom was in her early twenties when they met. He was forty."

"Were they soulmates?"

"Ha." Bella shook her head though he couldn't see her. "The whole soulmate thing is more trouble than it's worth."

"You've said that before."

"Well. My dad met his soulmate when they were sixteen. They were together for a good eight years. Then, she got pregnant by another man. My dad found out she'd been cheating on him for pretty much their whole marriage. But hey—that was only three years out of the eight, right? That's something."

"Having a soulmate doesn't stop you from forming connections with other people," he mused.

"No. And on the flip side of that, my mother met her soulmate when I was one."

"Oh. Oh." The last word was drawn out as he connected the dots.

"Ugly divorce. Uglier custody battle." She waved her hand in the air. "They both had other kids. Well. My dad took over my stepmother's kids. I don't know why they kept fighting for me."

"Good intentions, probably."

"Probably."

"Being someone's soulmate doesn't make someone a good partner. Just because you understand each other inside and out doesn't mean you can build a good life together."

"No," she agreed. "And it's a catch twenty-two. If you don't wait for your soulmate before you get into something else, it's a disruption. Even if you're happy with someone else, a soulmate connection is impossible to ignore. I think my dad got it right the third time. Sue's soulmate, the father of her children, died. They married each other free and clear of the whole fucked up business."

"It's not always so fucked up. Carlisle and Esme are soulmates," Edward said, sounding wistful. "They're good together."

"It does work out sometimes." She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, debating with herself a few moments before changing the subject. "You know, I didn't invite you to the wedding only to piss off my dad."

"No?" he asked, tone soft.

"You're easy to talk to. It would be nice to have someone to talk to there." She cleared her throat. "Anyway. You texted me. What about?"

"Erm." It took Edward a few beats to go with the flow of the subject change. "Oh. Your offer. About seeing Henry. I'm interested, but there's no way anyone would let me near that program."

"You're probably right, but I wasn't planning on asking permission. I go there a lot at night when I can't sleep. That's the only time Henry doesn't have visitors anyway. The night nurse is used to me, and he likes me. Only the three of us ever have to know."

"He likes you?" There was a light note of teasing to his tone.

"Hey, I'm not above putting on the doe eyes and flashing a little cleavage to get what I want."

"But why do you want to help me?" he asked sounding sincere and sad. "Even if you think she's wrong, you know Rosalie better than you know me. Why go against her wishes and hospital policy for me?"

She sighed, staring up at the ceiling, and again, she found herself answering this near-total stranger with nothing but honesty. "The first time I ever held a baby…" She had to swallow hard, closing her eyes against the sting. "They're so fragile. Especially the NICU babies. They're tiny, naked little birds, and even though you could break them so easily, they nestle against you with so much trust. I don't know. There's something about how you can be the biggest fuck up imaginable, but just holding them can help them, can save them. And if they do cry, it's not because you hurt them or disappointed them. It's not because they dislike you or hate you. There's always something in your power to do to comfort them.

"I don't know you, Edward. I don't know what you did or why Rosalie is so angry at you. I have no idea about things like rehabilitation or how easy it would be for you to get back into whatever sent you to prison in the first place. I just know it wouldn't have taken much for me to end up there myself. Holding a baby helps. I don't know how else to put it.

"He's your nephew, and I think there's something great about the fact you have every chance that he'll never know you as someone who was in trouble. Whatever makes you feel so separate from the rest of them? He'll never have any idea. You'll always be just his uncle, and he'll love you."

There was silence on the other end except for his ragged breath. Bella had the odd sense that he understood. He could have dismissed her as overly emotional or dramatic, but he didn't. She heard him swallow before he spoke and when he did, his voice was whisper quiet at first. "Okay. yeah." He took a deep breath. "Yes to both."

"Both?"

"If you were serious about the wedding."

"Oh, uh…" For reasons she didn't want to think about, her heart did a little flip in her chest and her lips tugged up at the corners. "But you know it's not because of my dad, right? I mean… I'm not going to lie. Making my dad squirm is a definite bonus, but you're a friend. You know? I want you there, if you want to be there, because I want you there."

"Yeah. It sounds like you could use some company. It'll make Esme happy anyway. She's always looking for an excuse to make me wear a suit."

Bella shivered. Edward in a suit. Whatever else was going on here, she had eyes. It was impossible to deny how attractive the man was. In a suit?

Well. She was only human. And it was nice to have something to look forward to at this wedding. It was nice to know that, if she had to be the odd man out, at least she wouldn't be the only one. And if her date was also eye-candy? That was just the cherry and whipped cream on top of the cake.

* * *

 **A/N: Have a good week, my ducks.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hellllllloooo.**

 **Thank you all for being so patient with me!**

* * *

Edward had no idea what he was doing down here. Esme had called him and put lunch in front of him, but he didn't think anyone had noticed that he hadn't said more than three words. Of course not. The topic of conversation was so much more important than him, and a subject he knew nothing about.

"You can see he's fighting," Alice said. "I think he wants to smile."

"Babies don't smile, babe," Jasper, Alice's boyfriend, said, ruffling her hair fondly. Because, of course, even Jasper had met baby Henry while Edward was still banned.

"This one does," Esme said, her proud-grandma smile out in full force. "He has his daddy's smile. He looked so much better today, don't you think?"

Edward looked down at his coffee, rotating his wrist so the liquid swirled and swirled and swirled.

"So, Edward?"

Edward raised his head, looking across the living room at Jasper. He arched an eyebrow.

"How's the job search going?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up at the corner, and he ducked his head. "Haven't heard back from the grocery stores yet. I'm moving on to the hardware stores this week."

Jasper blinked. "What? Are you serious?"

Edward almost felt bad, knowing he was making the conversation awkward when Jasper was the only one who'd bothered to try to include him. His sister's boyfriend seemed nice enough. Earnest and obviously head over heels for her. Still, he couldn't help himself. He kept his gaze steady and his tone conversational. "Bagging groceries is an honest day's work. Morgan Freeman did it when he got out in _Shawshank Redemption_."

Carlisle sighed, casting Edward an expression that suggested he was just a little bit exasperated. And that...that was what Edward had always been remarkably good at. Anyone who knew Carlisle would have said the man was unflappable. Not when it came to his wayward stepson. "You have a degree, Edward. You have two of them."

"In business and accounting." He raised a challenging eyebrow at his stepfather. "You really think I'm going to get anywhere with those degrees when I went to prison for embezzlement?"

Carlisle frowned. Alice cleared her throat and smiled brightly. "Hey, I forgot to ask. How did your test for your license go?"

At that, Edward's smile turned genuine. "Passed the written. In just a few more days, I should be legally back on the road."

"Though you should still consider a car," Carlisle said. "It would be sensible, especially when you need to prove your reliability to a company."

Edward's jaw tensed.

"And we'll put in a good word for you," Esme said. "Our friends would take us at our word that you're trustworthy." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Between all of us, you can take your pick of which industry you want to be a part of."

"I don't—"

"It'll be no time at all before we get your life back where it should be."

Edward clamped his mouth shut. He knew from experience, no one needed him to be a part of this conversation anyway.

 _ **~0~**_

Edward started when Bella put a hand on his knee. Electricity shot down his spine. He'd been lost in thought, but her touch had jolted him back into his body, leaving him hyper-aware of everything—the cool air, the darkness of the night, and her warm hand on him.

"Sorry." She yanked her hand back and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "You were bouncing your leg. It was distracting." She paused a beat, casting a glance at him. "Are you nervous? Babies aren't that hard to impress."

She had such a sweet smile, he couldn't help but smile back. "My parents called me trustworthy today," he said, turning away from her to look out the window at the darkened streets. "And what's the first thing I do?" He chuckled without humor. "Straight and narrow my ass."

Bella was silent a few moments and then, to his surprise, she laughed too. "Like it's a crime that you want to meet your nephew. Such intense bad boy behavior." She sighed. "My dad would say the same thing. It's unethical. Just another bad decision, but what else do you expect from a bad egg?

"When I went back to school after...everything, it was hard." She shook her head, staring straight forward at the road. "I was so tired all the time. So, one day, I skipped class. A perfectly normal thing that every college student in the world has done, right? Not even because they were having a hard time; just for fun. But my dad caught me, and he had that fucking look on his face. I'd worked so hard to get back to where I was supposed to be, but none of that mattered. He saw what he expected to see: me fucking up again. Business as usual."

Edward felt that statement in the marrow of his bones. He flashed back to the countless times in his teenage years, the smallest wrongs and the look on Carlisle and Esme's faces—just tired, disappointed, and so unsurprised that he had messed up again.

And on the flip side, the way they looked at Emmett and Alice—beaming with pride at their every minor accomplishment; also unsurprised. It was never a shock when Emmett and Alice did well.

Bella pulled into a parking space and turned the ignition off as she looked at him. "Anyway, I think it's bullshit. Just because we're screwups, we didn't lose the right to be human. And in some ways, sure, this is a fucked up thing to do. This is Rosalie's kid, and we should respect that. But you're Henry's family. She was always going to have to deal with you whether she wanted to or not, so which one of you was wrong first? Or wronger? Semantics drives me nuts."

She cocked her head, looking at him with a small smile. "So, I'll get it if you don't want to do this after all, but I'm not here to judge you. What's the good word?"

He stared at her a beat and then threw his head back against the headrest to laugh. "Let's go be bad guys."

"Okay, Mal. Settle down," Bella said, getting out of the car.

Edward was unreasonably thrilled that she'd recognized the obscure quote. "You've seen _Firefly_?"

"Does it shock you that a show full of criminal antiheroes is a favorite of mine?" She pointed at herself. "Rotten egg, remember?"

"You're not bad, you're just drawn that way."

She gave him a perplexed look, and he chuckled. " _Firefly_ yes. _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ no, huh?"

Bella pointed at herself. "I was born in the late nineties, ace. I've been on the ride at Disneyland. That's about all I know about Roger Rabbit."

"We should correct that."

Her step faltered, and she glanced at him, something shy about her expression though a smile played at her lips. "Are you asking me on a date?'

"Uh," came his brilliant response. His heartbeat picked up a mile a minute and his dick? No one invited him to the conversation, but he was definitely listening.

Well, what? Edward had been in prison a long time, and Bella was distractingly female. And spiky. And kind. And—

"I was kidding," Bella said, ducking her head. In the over-bright light of the hospital, the flush in her cheeks was obvious.

Edward thought about it for the space of another heartbeat, questions and admonitions ricocheting off his skull. Was dating something he should be thinking about fresh out of prison without a penny or even a driver's license to his name? Was it fair to her? Was it wrong that she was so young? Was his interest—because he was very, very interested—due to anything other than the fact she'd been the first non-related female he'd set his eyes on mere hours on the outside?

"No," he blurted, knowing his silence was making this whole exchange awkward. He cleared his throat, rolling his eyes at himself. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, his mouth turning up at one corner in a grin that had been potent once upon a time. He leaned closer, into her personal space as they got in the elevator, and dropped his tone to a low rumble near her ear. "It would be an honor and a privilege to teach you of the delights of pattycake."

She sucked in a sharp breath, pulling back so she could look in his eyes. She blinked several times, clearly confused. The air between them crackled with energy. "Wait. What?" she asked, sounding breathless.

The elevator dinged, and Edward breathed in through his nose and out again as he stepped into the sterile, too-bright hallway. He still had it, which was gratifying, but this was hardly the place for his libido to kick into high gear. "Roger Rabbit," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head at how weird his life was these days. Prison was limiting, but he supposed that was the point.

Bella stared at him a few more beats before she turned her attention to the woman who'd greeted her from behind the glass of the little room they'd entered. "Hey, Bella. I haven't seen you in a few weeks."

"School's been kicking my ass a little bit."

"Keep it up. You got this." The woman's eyes flicked to Edward and back to Bella. "Brought a friend?"

"Yeah." She reached over and took Edward's hand, bringing it up to pat it with her other. "This is Edward. He's had a hell of a week. I thought I'd bring him with me to therapy today."

The woman gave Edward a wary look. He found himself gripping Bella's hand tighter, feeling ridiculously like the cops were going to appear and haul him away again.

But then, the woman smiled at him. "The kids have had a hell of a week too. You'll be in good company." She reached over and pressed a button. The double doors in front of them swept open.

It didn't occur to Edward until they were halfway down the hallway that he hadn't let go of Bella's hand. Or, he supposed, she hadn't let go of his. In fact, her thumb swept over his knuckles in a comforting motion as they walked. "You're nervous," she said, this time not asking.

"I don't think I've held a baby since Alice." He cocked his head, a vague memory coming back to him. "I think there was one… I was supposed to babysit a baby once. But I tripped and the dad got spooked or something." He shrugged. The list of people who'd watched him, just waiting for him to fuck up was a long one. They tended to run together in his head.

"You don't have to worry about tripping here." She gave his hand a squeeze and let go. She stepped to a desk where a blond man was working. "Hey, Mike."

The man looked up and grinned. Edward didn't miss the way his eyes darted down, his glance appreciative, before he looked back up at her eyes again. He also didn't miss the coil of anger in his gut, and the way his fingers itched to reach for her again.

Instead, he fought to keep his face blank as the man stood and reached out to touch her arm briefly. "Bad night?"

She wrapped her arms around her shoulders but gave Mike a tired smile. "Bad month."

"Well, I got your back, kid." He stood up and looked at Edward. "You have company tonight?"

"This is Edward. He could use a factory reset."

"A factory reset?" Edward arched an eyebrow.

Mike looked at him with a kind gentleness to his expression that made it clear why he was a NICU nurse. "It's what we call the effect holding these babies has. All your stress. Everything outside? It all just melts away. They're so tiny, and they're struggling, but holding them gives you a sense of peace and purpose. It's good for them, and it's good for you."

"Win-win," Edward said, his throat tight.

This time, it was Bella who touched Mike's arm. She tilted her head, looking at him from under her eyelashes. "So, what do you think? Will you do me a solid? Edward's good people."

Mike pressed his lips together, but after a moment, he nodded. "Yeah, okay. No problem."

"You think maybe he can hold little Henry McCarty? His father's a friend of mine."

"Then wouldn't you want to be the one to hold him?"

Bella sucked in a sharp breath, and Mike's face fell. "Oh, heck. Hon, I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I know how you feel about the baby boys."

Edward furrowed his brow, confused and curious. He was distracted just as quickly when Mike put his hands on Bella's shoulders and massaged them. It was comfort pure and simple, but Edward found he _really_ didn't like this man touching her.

"Sending in a surrogate, then?" Mike asked in an obvious attempt to lighten the heaviness that had tinged the air around them. "No problem. Let me get you set up with Baby Bree." He clucked his tongue. "Poor little one. Her parents haven't been great about visiting her, so she could use a good cuddle." He pointed at Edward. "You can watch, and then I'll walk you through it, okay?"

Edward's attention shifted then to the babies in the room just behind Mike. They walked first into an anteroom where Mike explained the necessity of cleanliness, showing Edward how to wash his hands. From there he could see the babies—achingly small creatures in varying states, some with special lights, some with tiny blinders, all of them with some kind of wire or another attached to them. Fragile, tiny little things.

And suddenly, he was only too aware of what a fuck up he was. His nerves kicked into high gear, and he had the strange urge to turn tail and run. If he messed this up—and he'd messed up so many things in his life—he could hurt the baby, his nephew. Right then, he couldn't help but agree with Rosalie; he wasn't supposed to be here.

Then, Bella's hand was in his again. She squeezed tightly, looking up at him. "It'll be okay."

Inexplicably, he believed her, trusted her.

He watched as she sat in a chair beside one of the scary looking, enclosed cribs. There was something about her face at that moment that struck him as beautiful. There was something painful about the look in her eyes as her gaze followed Mike's movements. But there was wonder written in her features too as Mike helped settle the baby—a slip of a thing with the smallest pink striped hat Edward had ever seen—on her chest. He arranged the wires so they were out of the way, and Bella pressed a hand over the baby's back. Her hand had been so small in his, yet it was huge compared to the baby she held.

His heart ached, and he wasn't sure why.

When she was settled, it was his turn. He paid rapt attention, his heart pounding out of control as his nephew was placed oh so carefully in his arms.

He hadn't been able to put into words why it was so important for him to be a part of this. Yes, there was something healing about the idea little Henry would, potentially, never know Edward as a ne'er-do-well screw up. It was more than the pact he'd made with himself. He'd promised himself that when he got out, he'd figure out how to be a member of a family. A brother and a son; not just a guy that vaguely belonged to them so they had to care when he kept fucking up.

Holding Henry, though, all those things seemed inconsequential. The child squirmed, a warm, so-slight weight on Edward's chest, and he thought he'd never seen something so precious and incredible. He understood what his family was talking about. It took a fraction of a second for Edward to see the little boy was a fighter. And yes, he thought he saw a hint of his brother's broad grin there too.

"Little Henry here has a lot of people rooting for him," Mike said, adjusting one more wire. "Call me if you need me, okay?"

Edward just nodded, too enraptured in watching the baby's tiny movements, the flex of his impossibly small fingers.

"It's good to meet you, little man," Edward whispered, surprised a the strong impulse to speak. "Circumstances could have been better, but here we are."

He sighed, tracing the shape of the baby through the hospital blanket. "Your dad… I used to think he had a charmed life. I guess, in a lot of ways, he does. He always seems to get everything he wants. He makes it look effortless. He got on the sports teams he wanted in high school. Got the easy teachers. Got grades that were just good enough. He got the girl he wanted for both his proms. Got into the school he wanted. His business was an overnight success. He didn't meet your mother, his soulmate, until he'd already had time to be young and not tied down.

"But then, this." Edward rubbed the boy's back in light circles. "I don't know. Coming so close to losing you and your mom? What my life has been is nothing compared to that."

He lapsed into silence then, listening to the soft sounds Henry made as he vacillated between sleep and wakefulness. His heart was heavy and full, breaking for how hard this days old infant had to struggle and expanding to double his chest-size that he existed at all.

He looked up and saw Bella nearby, rocking the tiny girl she held with a wistful smile on her face. And he knew. Pieces in the puzzle that was Bella Swan fell into place, and he knew that, once upon a time, she'd held a baby in the NICU—a little boy, if Edward wasn't mistaken—and had felt what Edward was feeling now. That he could do better, be better than he was, because he had everything going for him. Here this precious child lay, fighting for breath. For life. Edward was a part of that fight now, giving what he could—his heat, his physical affection, his caring.

Once, Edward thought, Bella had held a child like this and had to have hoped it would be enough, that she could be enough. And maybe, like him, she had vowed silently that she could be better. If this little boy could fight so hard just to breathe, surely he could figure out how to turn his life around.

As though she could hear his thoughts, Bella looked up. Edward's breath caught in his throat. He felt bared and vulnerable, sharing this moment with her. Like she was the only one in the world who could understand what he was feeling now. For a moment, it was as though only this room existed—the two of them, outcasts from good families, their eyes locked as they talked without speaking.

Some minutes later, as he stood by her side watching Mike settle Henry back in his bed, Edward struggled to find a context for the sense of intimacy that had settled like a haze over his thoughts. It was a warm feeling. Awkward, because he didn't know or understand the shape of it, but not unpleasant.

He was connected to this woman somehow. Attraction, yes, but also a kinship.

And what any of that meant, Edward didn't know. He simply knew it existed—like invisible tethers in the air between them.

He rubbed the back of his neck, not really paying attention to whatever Bella was saying to Mike as they prepared to leave. He followed her when she turned and fell into step beside her, wondering what next. He wanted to talk. There was a lot he wanted to know. He wanted to flirt. There was a lot he wanted to do. He opened his mouth. Shut it again. Huffed. Opened it.

Bella gasped. Before he could process what was happening, she had grabbed his hand and pulled him down a hallway in the opposite direction they were supposed to be going. She pushed him against the wall. "What—" he started, but she put a finger to his lip. Still clutching his hand, she pressed her back flat against the wall.

Only a handful of seconds went by before he saw what had spooked Bella. His brother walked by, down the main hall headed in the direction of the NICU. Of course, Edward had always known Emmett was in the hospital. He spent every night there, but he'd said several times that he spent the night in his wife's room.

Bella let out a sigh of relief when Emmett's footsteps faded away. She looked at him. He stared back. They both started laughing, chuckling under their breath because it was ludicrous. They were sneaking around the hospital like common criminals in the small hours of the morning.

He pivoted so his side leaned on the wall, but the movement brought him closer to Bella than he expected as she'd turned to him at the same time. Startled, she put her hand out as though to keep her balance. Her palm rested on his chest.

A beat went by. She didn't move her hand and their laughter died on their lips.

He tilted his head down. She tilted her chin up. Their mouths met. Tested. She made a soft sound, and her breath was hot against his face, intoxicating him with her nearness. He leaned in again, his hand on her hip. This kiss was fuller. Sweeter.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something clicked into place with a snug snick—the universe full of everything light and good for once.

* * *

 **A/N: Hmmmmmm.**

 **Hope this finds you all doing well. See you soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Big thanks to my group for this one. The dress suggestions you gave me had a lot to do with how the wedding went. Onward!**

* * *

Alice called with the news that Rosalie, who had been coming slowly out of a comatose state for the last few days, was now fully awake and aware. Because her father's sense of propriety actually had rubbed off on her, Bella bought a few balloons and a vibrant orange rose in a delicate vase. She went to the hospital to pay her respects.

Rosalie was the type of woman who always looked immaculate. Alice had showed her pictures of their family trip to Yosemite once. Rosalie looked like she could have stepped off the runway at a fashion show for activewear even after the hike to the top of Nevada Falls. Her makeup was perfect. Bella would have sworn the woman had never sweat in her life.

Seeing her in the hospital had been a shock—her face slack and skin drained of color, life. It was a relief to see her awake even if it was still jarring to see her looking so worn.

And pissed. She was already agitated when Bella walked in the door. Aside from a sincere thank you to Bella for the gift, she'd been arguing with her husband the whole time.

"I'm alive. And awake. I want to see my child, Emmett. I want to see my son with my own eyes."

"Babe, I feel you. I do. But I haven't gotten a medical degree in the last fifteen minutes. The doctor says—"

"Like I give two fucks what the doctor says. My baby needs his mother. There's nothing more important than that."

Emmett sighed. "I'm guessing the 'secure your own mask before securing others' line isn't going to work here?"

Rosalie narrowed her eyes, and Emmett put his hands up. "Okay. Look, I'm going to go get everyone some coffee. I'll see if I can find the doctor and talk to him about getting a wheelchair out here. Mom, Dad, stay with Rosie." He looked at Bella. "Want to help me?"

"Sure." Bella pushed off the wall from where she'd been trying to stand unobtrusively in the corner. She was relieved to have a task. Though she was on friendly terms with the whole family, without Alice there she felt like she was intruding on things that weren't her business.

As soon as they were far enough away from the hospital room, Emmett let out a long, disgruntled noise. "I mean, it's not like I don't get it, right? But what does she want me to do? Should I sweep her up in my arms, yank out all her wires and needles, and crap and carry her to the NICU where I would probably be tackled by security?"

Bella couldn't help but grin. "Just don't let her know that's an option. I'm pretty sure she'd have your balls for not doing it."

Emmett snorted. "You're right." He sighed. "She already had my balls when she woke up in the middle of the night last night and found me there. When she found out I'd been spending the nights with her instead of Henry? I thought she was going to get out of bed and kick my ass."

They walked a few beats in companionable silence before Emmett cleared his throat. "So…"

Bella glanced at him. "So?"

"Of course, after Rose yelled at me, I went to go see Henry. The night nurse there is a pretty nice guy."

"Okay." Bella's danger sense, the one that used to sound when she had the feeling her father knew about her latest fuck up, tingled.

"He told me Henry had a visitor last night just before I showed up."

Her step faltered. "Shit. Emmett—"

He held up a hand, and his smile was gentle. "Hey. I'm the crown prince of asking for forgiveness instead of permission." He touched her shoulder briefly, and they got walking again, turning toward the cafeteria. "I'd have done it myself except somewhere along the line, I figured out the order of responsibility. My responsibility to my wife comes before my responsibility to my brother. That's the way it is, but that doesn't mean it's always what I want."

The subject dropped for a few minutes as they poured coffee and gathered creamer. When they were on their way back up to Rosalie's room, Emmett made a frustrated noise. "Okay, look. We don't know each other _that_ well, but probably you've figured out I'm not so great with the words? This is going to come out all kinds of wrong."

Her father would have told Emmett that if he couldn't say the right thing, it was better to keep his mouth shut. Bella had heard those words often enough. She'd never played by those rules, so she knew the futility of expecting Emmett to keep his peace. She waved a hand. "Hit me."

Still he was quiet. He was right; they were friendly, but they didn't know each other that well. But even she knew his silence was rare. She tried to ignore the way her skin crawled. Memories of being called to her father's office to be scolded flipped through her mind. She set her jaw, automatically on the defense, thinking up arguments for whatever might be coming.

"My brother…" Emmett huffed, gave his head a little shake, and tried again. "This is so fucking awkward. My brother is beyond us. Beyond me. Our parents. We can't reach him. Alice can sometimes, but I know he feels separate from us. Different. Nothing we say seems to help. In fact, it only makes things worse. And he's trying too. Trying to be part of us. Trying to be calmer, but he's got this anger right beneath the surface. He's volatile."

Bella could feel his eyes as he glanced at her kept her gaze focused forward. Emmett sighed. "If you guys have something going—"

"We're not doing anything." She had to work to keep her fist unclenched. There was no reason to be this angry; she was just so used to it. To people finding fault with her every move.

"Hey, I'm the last one to judge. We're talking. That's all. I think it would be good for Edward to have a connection to someone if it can't be us. And you're good people, Bella. I know that. You're not the crowd of troublemakers he ran with in high school. You're not the people who enabled him to do what got him sent away. I know all that.

"Just…" He gestured, coffee sloshing in their biodegradable cups. "Okay. I'm just going to say it. If this thing with you and Edward is romantic… You're young. And there's nothing wrong with that. But things are different when you're young. When you don't know yourself well. Jesus. I can't believe I'm saying this. I'm the poster child of sowing your wild oats is what I'm getting at. I sowed a lot of oats. A lot. And I had a lot of fun without thinking much about the consequences."

"Emmett—"

"Edward's life tends to go off the rails a lot. He's a good man, Bella, but trouble follows him. He's out of prison. He's got a fresh start now. He's a big boy, and you're a grown-up too. You're both going to do what you want. I'm just saying, before you start anything, maybe keep it in the back of your mind what Edward has to lose."

Old, old habit brought a sarcastic comment to Bella's lips. She caught it and swallowed hard, letting it die unsaid. Emmett wasn't her father. He wasn't expecting her to destroy everything she touched. He was worried for his brother; that was all. He'd said that it would be good for Edward to have a connection, a tie to something steady. A twenty-one-year-old kid probably wasn't going to be what he needed in the best of times.

"We're not doing anything," she repeated, quieter this time. And they weren't; not really. He'd kissed her once, and she shivered with the sweet memory of it. The heat of his mouth, the slide of his tongue moving with hers. How her body seemed like it was made of tingles. But that could be no more than the residual energy coming off an intensely intimate experience they'd shared.

Emmett chuckled. "B, the difference between not doing anything and went all the way at your age is maybe half an hour. It is what it is, and I'm the last one to sex shame. I'm probably way off base anyway. That sounds like me. I want Edward to be happy. That's all."

"Yeah." The word came out raw, and Bella swallowed hard, struggling to smile as they reached the door. "You're being a good brother. I get it."

 _ **~0~**_

"I can't believe you're dating my brother."

"I'm not—" Bella chuffed and turned her head to glare at her friend. "I already told you, Alice. It's not a date."

Alice just shot her a pointed look and guided her head forward again, returning to the task of running a brush through her hair. "Pshh. When have you ever asked me to help you with your hair? I know you have no fucks to give about looking good for your family so…"

Bella's cheeks heated. "Can't I want to look fancy for once in my life? There's going to be cameras there you know. It'll make the state news. Maybe even the national news. Far back in some obscure section but whatever. It'd be nice to have a good hair day, that's all."

In the mirror, Alice's reflection fixed Bella with a cool look that suggested she wasn't fooling anyone.

"It's not a date," Bella repeated.

"You play it how you need to."

Bella glanced at her. "You don't think it's a bad idea?"

Alice smirked. "I thought nothing was happening."

"Nothing is happening. I'm just asking why you want something to happen."

"No special reason," Alice said with a shrug. "I like my brother. I like you. If you like each other, I don't see the problem." Her grin was downright bratty. "Do you like my brother, Bella?"

Bella pressed her lips together into a thin line.

Alice chuckled. "It's a wedding. Two people coming together as one, declaring their love for each other? Romance is in the air. Even if it's not a date, when you dance—"

"I don't dance."

"Edward is a good dancer."

"Of course he is. Really, Alice? Wasn't he in prison most of your teen years? When did you see him dance?"

"I thought it was great when he let me step on his feet when he danced with me when I was seven."

Bella had to smile at the adorable mental image. "Of course he did."

~0~

"I can't take my eyes off you."

Bella bit the inside of her cheek and glanced quickly at Edward before she turned her eyes back to the road.

"I hope that's okay to say." His voice was a low rumble that vibrated under her skin even though there was a car console between them. "It's just your hair. And that dress." His eyes darted down to her bare knees and he might as well have brushed her inner thigh for how her body reacted.

She breathed in through her nose and let her lips curl up in a grin as she glanced at him again. "Yeah, you're what the kids would call fuck hot in that suit."

He laughed. "You think?"

She pulled the car up to the valet stand. "I'll fit right in today. You know half these senator type people bring arm candy as their dates."

He threw his head back and straight up guffawed. "Arm candy." He shook his head as he got out of the car.

Coming around to the front of the car, she offered her arm, her grin cheeky. "You're a very pretty man, Edward Cullen."

His answering smirk made her breath catch in her throat, and she wobbled a bit on her feet as he took her offered arm. He leaned down as they walked into the hall. "Will you dance with me tonight?"

"What?" Her answer sounded more breathless than she wanted to be.

"What good is arm candy if you can't show off?" He leaned in even closer so his voice was like a caress on the cheek and near her ear. "I'm a good dancer; I promise."

She tilted her head up to respond and found herself dangerously near him. Her head swam. Just another inch more and their lips would touch.

"Bella."

Her head snapped to the side and she took an instinctive step back though she still kept ahold of Edward's arm. "Dad." She turned her head just slightly, nodding at her stepmother. "Sue."

Her father had turned an assessing eye on Edward. He raked him up and down in a way that sent irritation roiling in Bella's gut. She knew that look. Her father was looking for a flaw. She cleared her throat, drawing Charlie's eye to her and stood with her head held high.

"Leah told me you were bringing someone," Charlie said. Bella didn't miss the note of distaste in his tone and the suspicion in his eyes as he looked Edward over. "You look familiar." He extended a hand.

Edward took it and shook firmly. "Edward Cullen, sir. It's nice to meet you."

"Edward…" Charlie's hand froze mid-shake and, for a moment, he stared at Edward with what looked like horror. But whatever it was, he recovered quickly. As Edward moved on to greet Sue, Charlie turned his assessing gaze on Bella. He sighed and bent his head to speak only to her. "Did you wear that dress just to irritate me?"

Bella blinked, stared. "What?"

"This is an elegant affair, Bella, not one of your frat parties."

Bella looked down at her dress, wondering if she'd stepped into another dimension. It was simple and sexy. A black number that flared out at the bottom so it swished and swayed when she walked. It fell above her knees, but it was hardly skimpy. "Not everything is about you. I wore this dress because I have fantastic legs, and I don't mind showing them off."

"For him."

"Jesus Christ. When are you politicians going to take a Feminism 101 class? I don't dress to embarass you or impress him. I dress for me."

Charlie chuckled and smirked at her. "You'd make a decent politician with that speech." he pointed a finger at her. "It's still inappropriate. And he's too old for you."

"Ugh."

Edward cleared his throat, stepping next to her. "I'm sure you're busy today," he said with an easy smile aimed first at Charlie then at Sue. "We'll get out of your way."

He walked beside her and only when they were well out of Charlie's earshot did he lean down to whisper, "Your legs really are fantastic."

She choked on a laugh and looked up at him, some of the tension draining away as her shoulders relaxed.

"Excuse me. Are you Bella Swan?"

Bella turned around half expecting to see a reporter. Instead, she found a woman just a few years older than her dressed in what could only be a bridesmaid's dress. She was a beautiful woman, vaguely familiar, with the saddest eyes Bella had ever seen. "Yes, that's me," she said cautiously.

The woman smiled with honest warmth. "I'm Emily, Leah's cousin. I know we met at some point but—"

"There are always so many people," Bella said.

Emily nodded. "Leah wanted to make sure you and your date had a seat up front." She gestured that they should follow her. "Mostly seating is a free-for-all, but you know Leah. She makes sure she gets what she wants."

There was something about her tone that made Bella pause. She put a gentle hand to Emily's shoulder. "Hey. Are you okay?"

The woman made an obvious effort to brighten. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Her eyes were red rimmed. She'd been crying recently. Bella tilted her head. Emily sighed. "I'm really fine. Bad breakup recently, that's all."

"That must be difficult," Edward said.

She shrugged and gave them a smile. "This is Leah's day. And I better get back to her. It's almost showtime."

"You have to hope that cut on her cheek wasn't what prompted the breakup," Edward murmured as they watched her retreat.

Bella frowned. It had been a nasty looking cut, healed now but still a livid red. "That would be terrible. Good if she got away, but terrible."

They sat for a few minutes in silence, Bella listening to the inevitable gossip going around them. She heard a few familiar names and saw familiar faces. As Leah had said, Sam grew up around the same people Jacob had. She listened and mused to herself about life, the universe, and everything.

It occurred to her that there was something unusual happening. Here she was sitting next to someone, a man who was still mostly a stranger, without speaking. She'd always noticed silences when she was sitting next to someone, even when she was in line or in waiting rooms. Not that she filled the silence, but she felt them.

Sitting here next to Edward she felt comfortable. Safe and calm. And that was a feat considering how out of place she usually felt at events like these. The silence between them didn't feel awkward.

Edward, who had been people-watching, turned his head and found her eyes on him. He smiled. She smiled. And there was that strange sense of intimacy she'd felt in the NICU. He sighed, raising a hand to brush a strand of hair back.

Why did his touch feel so familiar to her? Incendiary, yes. Her blood seemed to sing in her veins. But it didn't feel new. It just felt right.

The band, because of course there was a live band, began to play then, drawing everyone's attention. Bella turned with the rest of the crowd. She could still feel the warmth of Edward's body at her back, and had to stop herself from leaning so she rested against his chest.

Sam took his place along at the front of the room. He was a handsome man who looked good in a suit. Not as good as Edward, but that seemed like a hard act to top. He smiled, hands clasped as the parade of groomsmen and bridesmaids walked down the aisle.

As the bridal march swelled, Leah appeared on Charlie's arm. Bella had never seen her look like this— her smile wide and face glowing with happiness. Charlie looked so puffed up and proud. He was always puffed up and proud of Leah and his stepson, Seth. Leah and Sam made a good-looking couple. No doubt their wedding picture would earn an honored spot on the wall of Charlie's office.

Bella pushed that uncharitable thought away, concentrating instead on the ceremony...and the way Edward's fingers brushed her knee as he sat with his hands on his lap.

Finally, came the good part. The officiant asked Leah and Sam to face each other. They held hands. Bella noticed Emily turn her head briefly to wipe away a tear.

And as the officiant began to speak, Sam said, "Stop."

A hush came over the crowd. "I'm sorry, what?" the officiant asked. People began to whisper.

Sam cleared his throat, bowed his head and took a deep breath. "We need to stop this. We can't do this."

The murmur of the crowd grew louder. Leah yanked her hands out of his. "What the hell are you talking about?"

It was only because she was sitting so close that Bella could hear what was said. "Leah, I love you, but…"

"Sam, don't." It was Emily who whispered those words, voice hoarse.

Leah whirled. She looked between Sam and Emily.

"She's…It happened, Leah. It just happened. She's the one. _The_ one."

Chaos ensued. Leah screeched, "My cousin? Are you fucking kidding me?" and stepped toward Sam only to be held back by Charlie and Sue. Bella only heard a few words then over the growing noise of the onlookers.

"We couldn't help it. How could we help it?" Sam said over and over.

Bella glanced at Edward, eyebrow raised. He looked, if anything, bemused. "Soulmates," he said, shaking his head.

And that was when Bella noticed that, at some point during the drama, she had twined her fingers through his and was clutching his hand tightly.

"Soulmates ruin everything."

* * *

 **A/N: Fuck a duck, amirite?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is a very short chapter! But this story is flowing very nicely. Too nicely! Do you know how many fics I have in the air? Counting original fics? … well. Too many. But anyway! Onward.**

* * *

He really couldn't take his eyes off her.

Without consciously realizing what he was doing, he'd fallen into step slightly behind her. He wasn't trying to be a creep. It was just that he found himself fascinated by the way she moved, the swish of her dress against her legs. She sat across from him in the booth they were led to, her head tilted as she texted on her phone. He was strangely aware of her neck when she did that. There was something elegant about the shape of her, the way the necklace she wore hung just so. There was, he was sure, some complicated web of ties or pins holding her hair up like that. Whatever voodoo it was, it worked. She was beautiful. Not that her beauty had escaped him before. Just, tonight, she seemed ethereal.

She was a conundrum, or maybe he was just in a strange place in his life. Attraction had never carried this kind of intensity for him before. Was it only because it had been so long since...well, everything? He hadn't had sex in so long, he might as well have been a virgin again. Maybe this was no more than his adolescent hormones making a reappearance now that he was allowed to notice women again. Like it was all new, and he lived for the day he got to touch and taste.

He could have her if that was all he wanted. He knew she felt what he did. He'd felt the heat and electricity of her sweet kiss in the hospital. He'd never had trouble getting women. He had no problem with casual either.

The trouble was, Edward was almost positive he couldn't be casual about Bella.

"What are you staring at?"

Edward raised his eyes to find Bella looking not at her phone but at him. He couldn't help his answering grin. "You."

Her lips twitched and her cheeks turned pink. "What, do you not have a smartphone? Install Facebook. Go fight with someone in the comment section."

He chuckled and turned his attention to the waiter who'd come up to their table. They ordered drinks, and Edward tried not to be distracted. Bella was plucking bobby pins from seemingly random places in her hair. It came down in a cascade, splashing along her shoulders. He watched her run a hand through it, pulling it back off her face as she considered the menu and offered the waiter a friendly smile.

"So," he said when the waiter had walked away.

She flipped through the menu, looking at him from under her eyelashes. Coquettish. Carlisle, a lover of language and reading, would have been proud the word had stuck. It had been his unique form of punishment—vocabulary tests. The young boy he'd been had been angry and confused. Fists and pain was the norm in his world, with his biological father. Not words. Definitely not playful ones like this one.

Grown-up Edward was only too happy to have the term to turn around in his mind. Kittenish. Coy. Seductive. Flirtatious. It was a good word to describe what her eyes were doing, sweeping over him and lingering on his mouth. Her teeth sunk into her lush bottom lip, and it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself.

And he couldn't claim to be innocent. At some point, he'd picked up the spoon from his silverware set and was running the pad of his finger along the side.

Her cell chimed, and they both started. Edward ran a hand over his eyes, bemused at himself and glad for the break in the tension between them. Bella glanced at her phone and set it down to look at him. "So. Um." She shook her head. "Seth gave me the rundown of what happened. Sam and Leah have been together forever. I don't remember him not being around. Emily used to live here before my dad married Sue. She and Leah were best friends growing up.

"Well, Emily moved back not long after Sam proposed to Leah. The day they met, they knew, of course. They tried to avoid each other, but since they didn't tell Leah what was going on, she didn't help keep them separated. They all went sailing together." Bella waved a hand. "I don't know anything about sailing so...blah, blah, blah, Sam let something slip and, long story short, whatever happened to Emily's face is why she has those weird scars.

"Sam, of course, felt terrible, and since Emily doesn't have anyone else out here, he was the one who helped her the most while she was recovering from her injuries. They got to know each other and…" She shrugged.

"And I get cheated out of my dance." He pretended to pout.

She blinked and then grinned. "Are you making my stepsister's broken heart about you?"

"Well, I don't know your sister. I'm not saying it was a good thing. I can sympathize. It's especially bad getting your heart broken in front of reporters. That's a kick in the teeth. But as heartbreaks go, it's fairly tame. There was no maliciousness. No one lied. These things happen." He pointed at her. "It's another way the soulmate sentence screws us all over, isn't it? If they hadn't known, would Sam and Emily have looked twice? Sam was happy with Leah. I'm sure Emily didn't want to hurt her cousin."

"Yeah." Bella drummed her fingers on her menu. "Leah doesn't have a soulmate sentence. Sue used to talk about how terrifying it was to hear silence when she was born." Bella shuddered, a dark expression flitting across her face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "How she was scared most of Leah's life that she had some unfound, genetic illness. But who knows? Maybe her soulmate speaks in sign language."

"Or a priest under a vow of silence."

Bella winced, but she grinned. "How much would that suck? Left at the altar by one man only to find your soulmate is married to God. I used to tell her she didn't have a soulmate because she had no soul." She clucked her tongue. "No love lost between us when I was a kid. That's why my dad thought I was going to cause drama."

"Life is drama. Relationships are drama. Can't get around that."

She paused a beat. "You've had dramatic relationships?"

He had to fight to keep his lips from turning up. He recognized her tone. She sounded like he felt—where every word had an underlying layer that wasn't as nonchalant as she was trying to act. "Goes hand in hand with being a bad egg, doesn't it?" He shrugged. "The usual teenage nonsense. Things were mostly casual in my twenties. Only tangential drama there." He grimaced, a foul taste in the back of his mouth, and quickly shook that thought away. "I was in a relationship before I got sent up, though. Tanya. She was good people. Fun. Kind. Didn't stick around very long after I got hauled out of the restaurant we were at in handcuffs." He shook his head, not annoyed, just remembering. "I'd just bought her a huge, ostentatious ring, and I was going to propose that night. Feds got the ring, and she got the hell out of Dodge."

He watched her process his words and had to ask. "Are you ever going to ask me what I did?"

"It's none of my business." She pressed her lips together, letting a beat go by. "Also, Alice already told me. Not because I asked. She was venting."

"Venting?"

"She's trying to be supportive, but she doesn't get it. She doesn't get you."

He tilted his head, studying her. "Do you?"

Her eyes met his and the moment, like so many between them, seemed heavy with something he couldn't put his finger on.

"I don't know." She put her hands on the table and looked down at them, pressing her fingertips together. "It's just...to them, it's so simple. You have a family who loves you. They had the means to give you advantages a lot of people don't have. How hard is it not to fuck that up?" She shrugged. "But life doesn't boil down to just those things—advantages and love. People are more complicated than that. Some of our complications match, I think."

He couldn't help it. He reached out and put his hand over hers. "I think you're right."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for your patience. I promise I haven't forgotten about my other fics. Just writing what I can when I can.**

 **Jaina is a literal handful, but she's great.**

 **Back soon with Charlie. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:This fic has been yelling at me over the voices of all my other fics. Arf.**

* * *

She had been summoned.

Bella pushed through the front door of the office building, head held high like she belonged there. Her bravado only lasted as far as the front of the elevator. She stood without pressing the button, hands in fists at her side, jaw clenched, heart in her throat. Already, she could hear her father's voice in her head.

"Always so dramatic."

She hadn't done anything wrong. Her grades were fair to good depending on the class. And even if they weren't, how would Charlie know? She wasn't in high school anymore. Professors didn't send home progress reports.

What if Charlie had contacted her professors? What right did he have? What right did they have giving that information away? Wasn't that private?

Again, there was her father's face in her mind, sighing in exasperation and giving her that look. But if she wasn't in trouble, why was she here?

Maybe he just wanted to see her. She knew other adult children had amicable relationships with their parents. They went out to lunch and had a nice conversation. She got the whole, "I'm their parent not their friend" thing, but she was done. Raised, for better or worse. And, whatever, maybe she was messed up, but wasn't that just her at this point?

Bella huffed out a breath and closed her eyes briefly. "Dramatic."

She hated proving her father right.

When the elevator doors opened at the seventh floor office suite, Bella shoved her hands in her hoodie pockets and braced herself for battle. Austin greeted her with that fake grin she hated. "Bella, hey. Long time no see.'

He was trying to pretend they were chummy. Austin had, of course, been at the disaster of a wedding. "Sure. It's been ages," she deadpanned. "My father wanted to see me?"

Austin waved at the door. "He's on a phone call, but you can go in. I'm sure he'll be off in a minute."

Bella paused only a moment outside her father's office door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in and out. Reminding herself for the umpteenth time that she hadn't done anything wrong and there was nothing he could possibly want to yell at her about, she pushed through.

Charlie looked up when she entered the room. His expression was blank, and he continued his phone call without so much as a nod in her direction. When she didn't approach, he fixed her with a look and pointed to the seat in front of his desk.

Bella crossed her arms over her chest, hunkering down in her chair. She took her phone out and tried to distract herself from nerves. Already irritated, she went directly into one of her favorite Facebook groups dedicated to cats, cats, and more cats. No political posts. No exasperating vaguebooking.

Just as she started to relax, her father's disgruntled sigh brought her back to Earth in a crash landing. Despite her earlier pep talk to herself, Bella's shoulders hunched.

"For God's sake, Isabella. Don't slouch. Haven't you outgrown this surly teenager routine by now? Sit up straight and get your hair out of your face."

Perfect. She was twelve years old again. She clenched her fists and her jaw but somehow managed not to snap off a sarcastic remark. She'd be damned if she proved her father's point for him. Instead, she straightened up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

Charlie shook his head. "How long is this rebellious phase of yours going to last? A decade is pushing it. Is there some point where you figure out your choices have an impact? Your decisions can and will destroy your life."

That was over the top even for him. "You think not sitting up straight is going to destroy my life? That's melodramatic."

"Playing dumb doesn't look good on anyone, and you've always been a bad liar. You know what I'm talking about."

"I must actually be dumb. I have no clue what you're talking about."

He eyed her, clearly unimpressed. "A felon, Bella? You really think a felon is the best choice for your life right now?"

"You ran a background check on Edward?" She had no clue why the idea surprised her. Politicians were so used to being invasive, a background check would seem tame, even regular. And hadn't part of her wanted him to know Edward had been in prison? Hadn't the petty side of her wanted her father to squirm, watching a former felon mingle with guests and dignitaries, sullying his perfect little world?

But she hadn't actually intended to tell him.

"What gave you the right to do something like that?" she demanded.

"All a reporter or a rival needs is his name. You really think I'm the only one who has this information? What were you thinking bringing a man like that to your sister's wedding?"

She balked. "Are you actually yelling at me for what you think might have happened? You do realize I wasn't the one who fucked up her wedding, right?"

"You could have."

"I didn't do anything. Edward didn't do anything. We wouldn't have. If you ran a background check, you know he went to jail for white collar crap. What about that makes you think he has any interest in messing up someone else's wedding?"

"He did come with you."

Bella's heart twisted, but her rage was louder. "And what the hell makes you think I would do something to hurt Leah just because?" She blew out a breath, looking away to hide the fact her eyes were stinging. "You know what? Never mind. Don't even answer that. I know what you think of me. I haven't been in much trouble in years, but whatever. That doesn't count for anything with you. I get that."

A heavy silence fell between them. Bella breathed in and out slowly, blinking rapidly to keep from crying. Fury and frustration made her stomach churn. Only the knot in her throat kept her from yelling.

After a few long, pregnant moments, Charlie sighed. "It does count," he said gruffly. "That's part of what makes me so disappointed in your choice. You're finally putting your life together. Back in school. Back on the right track. Why would you want to do this to yourself?"

"Do what to myself?" Bella asked, exasperated.

"Use your head. I know you're smarter than this." He huffed out a breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was gentler. And condescending. "Sweetheart, what do you think a man his age wants with a girl like you? Especially a man like that?"

"A man like what? What do you think you know about him?"

"More than you," he said with narrowed eyes.

"Why? Because you talked to him for two minutes?"

"No. Because—" Another huff, and he shook his head. "I'm not going to argue with you. I would have thought after everything you went through with Jacob, you'd have learned your lesson about worthless men. Do you really want to end up right back where you started? Alone to go through something like that again?"

Bella stood up. "I'm not going to listen to this."

"Sit down," he commanded.

She glared. "Then don't talk about that. Before. This has nothing to do with that."

"You think a man like Edward Cullen would be of any more use to you than Jacob was?" Her father's tone was derisive. "At least Jacob had the excuse of being a child himself. When you end up pregnant again, that's the last you'll see of this clown. And with his record? Good luck on ever getting child support."

"I'm not going to get pregnant again," Bella shouted, hands balled in fists at her side. She couldn't find enough words to explain how little she wanted to have this conversation. The memories were too raw and painful, each of them like a stab to her heart. She shook her head hard. "I'm not a child anymore either. I know what I'm doing. And I don't know what the hell you have against Edward. He hasn't done anything to me, and he really hasn't done anything to you."

Her father was strangely silent at that. For a few beats. "Sit down." When she didn't obey immediately, his words came out with a bite. "I realize you're an adult and you're going to live your life however you want, but I still pay your bills. I pay for school. I pay for the roof over your head. I at least get to dole out the advice."

She sat, crossing her arms and slouching. She corrected her posture before she could be chastised yet again.

"Did he say the words?" Charlie asked.

"What words?"

"You know what I'm talking about. The soulmate words."

For no good reason, Bella's already-sore heart gave a quiet pang. "No."

Charlie hummed. "Well. If you can't be rational about the kind of person he is, and where your life with him could possibly go given that he's a man who's starting over at thirty-six—"

"How old were you when you married Sue?"

He fixed her with a sharp look. "Don't get cute. Our situations aren't comparable. I had a successful life well before I married Sue. We were both well established in our lives without each other. I was successful before I married your mother too. And I can't tell you how much the comparison disturbs me. If you're even thinking about marrying this guy—"

"No. I just met him. For fuck's sake."

He stared and must have decided he believed her as he nodded. "If you can't be rational about the kind of person you date, at least think about what happened to your sister ...and your mother and me for that matter. Your soulmate will show up one day, and then what?"

Bella pressed the heel of her palm between her eyes. "So, because my soulmate will eventually come along and cause drama, I shouldn't date?"

"That's not what I said."

"Then what do you want? For me to tell the future?"

That earned her another dirty look. "I'm asking you to use your head. You've had enough setbacks. Your life is far from stable. No one can tell the future, but you know it's a near certainty that your soulmate will come into your life at some point. You've seen the kind of upheaval involved. I can't regret marrying your mother even though she hadn't met her soulmate yet, because I don't regret having you—"

She scoffed. He narrowed his eyes but continued without commenting. "But I know your mother's and my divorce was hard on you. It was hard on all of us. The drama had the potential to destroy three lives. If you make the same mistake I made, that Leah made, you know for a fact there'll be hell to pay down the line. I'm just asking you to consider that. This man is already complicated."

"Dad—"

"It is what it is, Bella. He's a felon. Fine. A reformed felon. It's going to take time and effort for him to get his life together. That is simple fact. And it's also a fact that he's a whole lot older than you."

"And there's only one thing a man his age could want with a woman like me." Bella stared her father dead in the eye. "Is that all you wanted with my mother?"

For a handful of seconds, he looked downright dangerous. But then, he took a deep breath. "That's fair. It's not impossible to have a good relationship with an older man. I'm just urging you not to be naive. I was in a much different place in my life when I met your mother than he is. Your mother, for all her faults, hasn't had as much trouble as you have. I'm simply saying women his own age might not be as...trusting as you are. It makes you an easy target."

Bella's throat felt tight. "Nice."

"Bella—"

"Look, you don't even have to worry. We're friends. That's all. There's nothing going on between us that's going to embarrass you." She had no idea why she'd waited this long to set the record straight.

"Bella." His voice was gentle again. "Believe it or don't, I really am more concerned with you than I am with how it will affect me. You're the one who has to live your life. You've had a rough...decade." He shook his head. "And you didn't get the best start to adulthood by a long shot. I want to see you do well."

She wanted so badly to believe him. She wanted to believe he was just another concerned father lending sage advice to his grown daughter. He was right. Edward was a felon and whether or not he was a good man, that was already more complication than any parent would want for their child. She wanted to believe they could repair their relationship.

She wanted her father back.

But she'd been a politician's daughter all her life. She knew only too well how good he was at spin. It wasn't lying; not really. He did want her life to be better. It was just that, in her experience, what he believed was best for her coincided with the mold he wanted her to fill—the ideal senator's daughter. What he thought was best for her was also, conveniently, what was best for him. He would say anything in any way he thought necessary to get her to see things his way.

She was so tired.

"He's just a friend," she repeated.

Her father's face said it all. He didn't believe her. But what else was new? He never did.

* * *

 **A/N: Who Framed Roger Rabbit viewing next. You know what that means, cats and kittens.**

 **That's right.**

 **Pattycake.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: These kids changed the plan on me a bit.**

 **Big thanks to my Facebook group for helping me out with the soulmate sentence in this chapter. They gave me so many plot bunnies. I think I went with Jayme's suggestion at the end of the day, but they were all so good.**

* * *

The sound of an incoming text never failed to make Edward smile. The reason was simple. More often than not, it was a text from Bella.

That day, despite her words being straightforward, Edward couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. He couldn't explain it even to himself. He just knew she needed cheering up.

If he was being honest, it was probably his own mood he was feeling. He'd had another fight with his parents. He knew their concern came from a good place, but he didn't need to be reminded constantly that he was living his life wrong. They thought they had all the answers.

Edward: How do you feel about motorcycles?

Bella: I get pissed off at them when I'm stuck in traffic. Who do they think they are, moving forward when I can't?

Edward: What if you're on one?

A minute went by, then, she sent a YouTube link. Edward had to laugh. It was from a few years back—a video with a few thousand reviews. It was a right-wing nutcase, talking about Charlie Swan—specifically about his delinquent, teenage daughter.

There was a short, grainy video within the video of Bella and a few, well, delinquents. The epitome of the stereotype—a bunch of kids with long hair, spiked into the tallest mohawk Edward had ever seen in one kid's case, riding motorcycles with that look on their face. The look of someone who wasn't about to wait for trouble to find them.

A bunch of kids pretending to be badasses, in other words. He couldn't judge; he'd been that kid once.

He tilted his head, watching teenage Bella—not so many years ago—climb onto a motorcycle, flipping the bird at whomever was videoing her.

She was visibly pregnant.

His heart gave a quiet pang, pieces of the puzzle that was Bella Swan falling into place with neat snicks. He remembered the way she'd gone pale when Nurse Mike suggested she hold baby Henry. It could be that she'd given the child up for adoption, but he didn't think so.

He wanted to ask, but… Well. It could wait.

Edward: Busy tomorrow?

 _ **~0~**_

They matched.

Bella came out of her apartment building wearing the same thing he was—jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair flowed loose, and he had the thought he might be a genius for planning this trip. It was a beautiful day, and she was stunning. The thought of her wind-mussed hair spread all around her...

But he was getting ahead of himself. There was energy between them—lightning and fire—but nothing they'd spoken about. He was far from naive. He knew how days like these ended, but he also knew he had no right to think of it as a certainty. He didn't want to. He wanted more with her. Nothing specific. Nothing he'd really thought through. Just more.

He reached for her without thinking. If she found it odd, she didn't say, only took the hand he offered. At her touch, so much of the tension he carried just drained out of him. She too had a heaviness about her when she'd stepped out of the building that seemed to drain from her features.

It was nice—the thought that his mere presence could make someone happy; lighter. He was used to being the cause of worry and drama.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Let's get gone," she said with a grin.

Yet they sauntered toward his bike at a slow pace, fingers clasped right at the tip; playing at whatever they weren't saying. He did let go of her fingers to put the helmet he'd brought for her on. They both knew she was more than capable of fastening the straps herself, but he pretended he was being helpful. She didn't seem annoyed. Her eyes lingered on his as he smoothed her hair back and her lips tugged up in the smallest of smiles.

He wanted to kiss her. Again. He dreamed about the taste of her.

Instead, he climbed on his bike and turned his head to look over his shoulder. He watched as she mounted the bike behind him, and he couldn't help his smile. Her arms locked around his waist.

Then, they were off.

It took about half an hour to get out of the citified area. A turn onto a side road and they were on their way.

The drive he'd picked out was a favorite of bikers. The kind of drive motorcycles were made for—all winding roads and hairpin turns. As they wound their way up the mountain, the morning clouds that had hung low in the sky from where they lived in the valley came up on them all of a sudden, obscuring the road more than a few feet in front of him. It was that awesome kind of scary—just enough danger to thrill. It was the kind of scene a vampire or a werewolf would feel right at home in. Bella's arms tightened around his waist, and her body pressed hard against his.

It was only when they broke through the cloud bank that Edward stopped. It wasn't an official destination—just a place they could stretch and admire the view. He pulled over at a turn out, holding the bike still as Bella dismounted. He watched her a beat—that moment when she took off the helmet and let her hair tumble down. She was beautiful. Against the backdrop, the scene was stunning.

Edward got off the bike and finally let his eyes drift away from Bella to take in the panorama. It was hard to believe a view like this existed so close to the sprawling suburbs. Right then, the valley and the distant city weren't visible through the heavy cloud cover. It looked like a river of fluffy white hugging the lines of the mountains.

"Looks like you could step right off the cliff onto one of them like a Charmin commercial," Bella said.

Edward chuckled, stepping close to the edge of the cliff and peering over. "Yeah, I don't recommend that."

He heard the crunch of dirt beneath her feet as she stepped closer. They stared out at the view, enjoying the cool, clean air.

"You didn't ask about the video," Bella said as though they'd been in the middle of a conversation.

For some reason, it didn't shock him. "What about the video."

"You know."

He did. "It's not really the kind of thing people should ask about, I think. But if you wanted to tell me…"

She sighed. "It's a short story. He was born too early. Like Henry, except I didn't hear the words. He had no soulmate words. I knew he wasn't going to make it then. I knew. It took him two days to die though. " Her voice was far away and thin. Sad. "Are you going to tell me I was stupid?"

"Why would I do something like that?"

"You saw me. Seven months pregnant and riding motorcycles."

"I don't think that's stupid."

"Motorcycles are dangerous."

"So are cars, statistically. The trick is not to crash them." He paused a beat. "Was that why he came early?"

"No. It just happened, the doctor said. But I always wonder if he was just being nice." She scuffed the dirt. "I was pathetic. No boyfriend. My mom… at least she FaceTimed me, I guess." Scuff. Scuff. "My dad sent an aide."

"Jesus Christ," Edward couldn't help but mutter under his breath.

"It was an election year. It was probably better, really. What was my father ever going to say? At least he sent a woman."

Edward didn't know what to say. He shifted and took her hand, squeezing his fingers tightly around hers. Touch always made him feel more human. He searched for words, but they didn't come. What could he say about the loss of a child? Unfathomable. What could he say about her parents not being there with her? Unfair. Orphaned as he was, he'd always had loving parents in some fashion. It was even less fair that someone let her believe she was responsible for the death of her son.

He flexed his fingers around hers, sighed, and let go of a secret he'd held alone for eleven years. It was the only thing he had—a piece of himself, his worst moment because she'd already given up hers.

"I have a child," he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her body jolt, felt her fingers jump in his hand. "You do? I… What's… I mean, what's his name? Hers?"

He stared out, past the thick clouds that hugged the mountains to the cityscape in the distance. "I don't know," he admitted, wondering if he could see the child from here; if they were still that close. He sighed. "It was two in the afternoon, October twenty-ninth. I was at work and then… My mind cleared. It went completely blank for a second except for the words. A soulmate sentence." He shook his head. "'Are you aware you've picked out shit colored paint?'"

Bella blinked. "Really?"

"Poor kid. Apparently they don't have good taste in paint."

"And their soulmate is a nosy asshole if that's their first words." She squeezed his hand. "You didn't know, then? About the baby?"

Edward shook his head slowly. "I wasn't with anyone. No one I'd been with had even hinted they were pregnant. It might not have been on purpose. It might have been the mother would have told me if she could. Casual sex is… Well, I guess it is what it is. I never went out looking to hook up, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. If I hit it off with a woman and one thing led to another…" He shrugged. "No strings. No fuss. No breakfast in the morning."

"And no exchanging numbers or basic where-to-find-you information?" Bella filled in.

"Yeah." He slipped his hand out of hers and shoved both his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped as he towed the ground. "I would have been there."

Her hand was warm at the center of his back. She leaned close to him. "I know." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "You could still go on Maury."

Maury Povich had a popular segment on his show—fathers like Edward who'd heard the soulmate sentence ringing in their head, marking the birth of a child they hadn't known about. Mostly, though, on his show, the men had an idea who the baby mama was. Maury would ask them to submit to genetic testing to prove the child wasn't the father's and, predictably, drama ensued.

"I didn't know what to do when it happened. Where to start," he said. "A month went by, then two. A year went by like nothing. I met Tanya. Then, prison happened, and here I am."

Silence fell as they stood side by side, but not an uncomfortable silence. The conversation was far too heavy for a not-even-date, Edward mused. But somehow, that wasn't uncomfortable either. It felt strangely natural to share these things with her—the deepest, darkest secrets of their souls. Maybe that was why it was so had accepted each other, faults, scars and all.

What a profound and peaceful thing to be simply accepted.

"Are you ready to go?" They still had more ground to cover.

In answer, she stooped, picking up her helmet from where she'd rested it at her feet. "Onward."

For the first time since he'd walked out of the prison, Edward truly felt his freedom. He felt taller and lighter. He had a flash of memory of the young man he'd been—arrogant and sure as he moved through the world.

He had a plan. He wasn't sure he should, but he did. It was a loose plan—enough room to go several ways.

But he let that thought slip away with the cool, early morning air.

At the top of the winding road, they reached their first planned destination—a nice, simple observatory. They walked, fingers brushing into the tiny museum. They touched a lot. A tap from her to get his attention. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he leaned in to get a closer look at one of the pictures on the wall. It was so natural to touch her, to be so familiar.

On impulse… Well. No. His whole being had ached to feel her against him, pulled to his front as she'd been pressed to his back on the bike. As they toured the outside of the observatory, peering up at the tall lens, he wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her down, taking the brunt of her fall. They were both breathless—her with surprise and him because, slight thing though she was, her body falling on his had knocked the wind out of him. They were a tangle of limbs, both laughing as they sat up.

That smile. Such a pretty, pretty smile.

He cupped her cheek. Her grin fell to something softer, and she put her hand over his. He let his thumb sweep along her skin, brush her lips with the lightest touch. He raised his eyes to hers. She raised her chin to him, inviting.

With a sigh, he leaned in. The wind ruffled his hair, and the noise of the other people milling around faded into the background. For sweet moments, as he tasted her lips, there was only her. He scooted close to her, one hand around her and resting on her waist.

Quickly, those tiny tastes, the little nips at her lips, weren't enough. He wanted more. To devour. He wanted to push her back on the grass and memorize the way her body felt under his fingers.

He wanted.

The sound of a woman clearing her throat brought reality back. He and Bella parted. The woman led her young child away, tossing a glare over her shoulder at them. Bella's cheeks flamed. He smirked and pushed her hair back over her ear. She licked her lips, and ducked her head.

They breathed. In. Out. And then, she sighed and craned her head, looking up at the observatory's dome. "We have to come back here. I mean. I have to come back here. Someday. At night." She craned her head further back, looking directly up. "At night."

And there it was. A natural segue. "Well…" he began.

Bella looked at him and arched an eyebrow.

"There's a little town down the other side of the mountain. One of those cute places. Antiques. Quirky shops. Expensive food." He paused a beat, looking in her eyes. "Nice hotels and inns. My parents kept my credit cards in good standing. We could get a room."

She bit her bottom lip. A few tense moments passed, and then she laughed.

"What?" he asked, somehow more amused than self-conscious.

"It's nothing." She looked down, tracing her fingers through blades of grass. "Just hearing my father's voice in my head. Apparently, according to him, a man like you only wants one thing with a girl like me."

"That…" Despite his indignance, it wasn't as though he could deny he wanted her. There was more to it, but there was also that.

In the end, he just smiled. It was a mischievous smile; one that matched the mischief that played at her lips. She was no naive flower, easily lead and bent to his whim. He tickled her sides with the pads of his fingers. "What does your father know, anyway? It could all be innocent. Two beds. We'll find a copy of Who Framed Roger Rabbit and play patty cake." He let his eyes hold her gaze. "If that's what you want."

He'd never had any intention of pushing her.

She cupped his face in her hands so tenderly and then ran her fingers through his hair. Rather than answer about what she did or didn't want in a hotel room in a quaint little town, she kissed him. It was a slow kiss and sensual. He moaned softly into her mouth.

No. He wasn't leading her anywhere. Were they about to make another mistake? Possibly, but it seemed to be what they were good at. Regardless, wherever they were going, they were going side by side, holding hands, and running.

* * *

 **A/N: These kids needed a break! Hehe.**

 **Though I don't think I've mentioned what state their in, the drive I based this chapter off is the is the Palomar Mountain Loop. It's a gorgeous drive (I did it in a car…). Feel free to drop in on the group for visuals. And I like to think we have a good time there.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you for your patience, duckies! Life got a little rocky for a minute there, but we're on the uptick now.**

 **Okay, so. Due to the episodic nature of fanfiction, I'm getting a lot of questions that have already been answered. Let's do a quick recap.**

 **In this universe, the soulmate sentence is heard when a baby is born by both the mother and father of the child. The soulmate sentence is the first sentence a child's soulmate will say to them.**

 **Bella's sentence was Fuck a duck. She knows what her sentence is, but her parents neglected to tell her it has already been said, by Edward, when she was just a baby. So she thinks her soulmate has not showed up yet. And since they are supposed to be the FIRST words her soulmate says to her, even if Eddo were to say it now, she wouldn't think anything of it.**

 **Edward's soulmate sentence is just "Hey." A pretty standard greeting (and Bella's first word to him ;) ).**

 **Yes, Charlie knows Edward is back and yes, he is purposefully keeping the fact he is her soulmate away from Bella. Yes, he is purposefully misdirecting her.**

* * *

Despite the way her father treated her, Bella knew she wasn't a child. He could shake his head all he wanted, but she wasn't that wild teenager who'd run with the wrong crowd and done every stupid thing without thought of the consequences.

She kept reminding herself of these things as they made their way down the other side of the mountain. Despite the cold air stinging her cheeks, the rest of her burned hot. She was only too aware of her position—pressed as she was with her body against Edward's back, her arms locked around his waist, her hands so close to the object of her preoccupation.

As much as she tried to convince herself she was a grown woman, she wasn't so far away from a time when sex was the ultimate taboo. It hadn't been so long ago that she and her classmates talked about it in whispers and snickered.

With Jacob, sex was the trouble they got into together. They were both new to it—awkward and clumsy. They giggled and blushed and snuck around behind their parents' backs.

Edward was a long way from awkward teenage fumbling. She wanted to play it cool—like it was a normal thing to know they were only whiling away the hours until the hotel room was available—because hotel rooms apparently weren't available until after four.

Because it was totally normal to get a hotel room to get busy.

Or watch Roger Rabbit. That was on the table too.

"Hey."

Bella's head snapped up, and she dropped her muffin on the plate in surprise. "What? Yes? Hi." Her cheeks flamed.

A tiny smile played at the corner of Edward's lips. He reached across and took her hand. "They have crumb cakes here. You didn't need to make your own."

If anything, her cheeks got hotter. She'd reduced the top of her muffins to crumbs on her plate. "Ha," she said dryly. Anything cleverer than that was lost to her. He'd begun to rub her knuckles, and it was driving her to distraction. Her skin was alive.

He tilted his head, studying her as his fingers caressed the skin of her wrist. She bit her lip, oddly positive that he knew what she was thinking, like it was written all over her face. She tried to duck her head, but he caught her cheek with a tender touch.

"I have an idea," he said.

Some minutes later, they were across the street from the little bakery where they'd been having coffee. Bella laughed as they strolled into a beautific courtyard. "This is a little vineyard, isn't it?"

"It is." Edward squeezed her hand, tugging her closer.

"You like wine?"

He smirked. "No, but come on. They usually have the best cheese trays anyway."

They went inside, declined the wine tasting, and instead settled at a little counter where Edward ordered a cheese tray and two Moscatos. He snickered at the dirty look the waiter gave before he turned away. "He disapproves," Edward observed.

"He doesn't have to drink it." Bella eyed the happy wine drinkers skeptically.

The waiter returned with two glasses of wine, and a moment later with a plate of cheeses, meat, fruit, and nuts. "This is fancy." Bella shook her head, remembering walking through country clubs with posh people eating similarly.

Edward picked up his glass, rotating his wrist so the wine swirled just like in all the movies. "When I was twenty, I wanted to impress this woman I was dating." His grin spread wider. "She was thirty...something."

Bella pressed her lips together. She wasn't exactly in a position to talk.

"I had a fake ID, and I was a cocky little shit." He shook his head, his expression rueful. "It was the most grown up and sophisticated thing I could think of—sipping wine and nibbling fancy cheese."

"You wanted her to take you seriously. I get that."

He paused with a slice of gruyere-topped apple halfway to his mouth. He stared at her for two beats and then laughed, ducking his head.

"What?" Bella asked, brows furrowed.

"Nothing." He sighed, hiding a smile behind his hand. "I got a hangover because, well, wine is… Let's just say it's easier to incur the wrath of grapes than you might expect. Worst hangover of my life. Which is probably why it was easy for Esme and Carlisle got out of me what I did. They never could understand why I did things like that. I couldn't really explain it either." His smirk grew wider as he looked up at her. "They have therapy in prison. The counselor said exactly that. I made bad choices in a misguided effort to be taken seriously.

"That was why I did what I did to get me sent up." He rolled his eyes. "I had a job, and I was good at it. I was making good money too. But it was… You know, my parents had paid for my education. They handed me a future, and I performed as expected. Nothing special. Like a little kid putting a round peg in a round hole. It's only special if a toddler does it.

"Emmett, on the other hand… He founded a company and was successful right out the gate. I was making decent money, but he was making money hand over fist." Edward shrugged. "It sounds pathetic now. Little boy shit, but I wanted it to be me they were so proud of. Me who they bragged to their friends about how I took them out to fancy dinners or paid for all of us to go on vacation on my own dime."

"You just wanted to be taken seriously," Bella said again, her voice a wistful whisper.

She really did understand. After she'd lost her baby, she'd worked so hard to get better, to be a different person. Still, her father hadn't ever acknowledged the work she put in. He'd given her all the tools, after all. Money for therapists and school. The roof over her head and the car she drove. She knew she was lucky. So many people in her shoes didn't have half of what she had, but she'd still done the work herself.

Edward angled his body to the side and took her hands. His smile was soft but wide; his eyes tender and bright. "It took me years of therapy to figure out why I did the dumbass things I did. You have me pegged in five seconds flat."

He leaned forward, rubbing two fingertips at the inside of her wrist. He heartbeat fluttered, and her breath caught as he looked into her eyes. "I take you seriously, Bella. You think I'm ever going to think you're less mature than I am just because of our age difference." He scoffed. "I'm living with my parents in my thirties, using a credit card to pay for wine, cheese, and hotel rooms to impress a woman."

That made her stomach do little flip-flops—the idea anyone, let alone someone like Edward, would want to impress her. She swallowed hard. "See, this is the disadvantage of having a motorcycle."

He blinked. "What?"

"If we'd brought a car, we could have just skipped the hotel room. The backseat is good enough for me."

He stared at her a beat, and she shrugged. "I'd say there was nothing wrong with the great outdoors, but getting arrested for public indecency probably isn't what you need right now."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, pulling his hand from hers and covering his face. His shoulders shook with laughter. When he brought his hands down, his face was flushed and his grin wicked. He leaned in, wrapping one arm around her as he kissed her fervently. She let her tongue slide out just the slightest bit, pressing the tip along the seam of his mouth.

Sweet Moscato wine tasted so much better that way.

"You drive me so crazy," he rumbled against her lips and kissed her again.

 _ **~0~**_

"Wow."

Bella pressed her lips together, trying hard not to laugh. They stood together just inside their hotel room. It was…

Well. It was probably what she should expect from a tiny, quaint town out in the country. It was taking the little country inn theme to the next level. The bedspread was a quilted pattern. The wallpaper was horrendous. High shelves were decorated with tins and plastic flower pots. The walls were busy—the pattern of the wallpaper clashing with the framed art of roosters and other farm-type things.

"This room hurts my eyes a little," Edward said, his hand at her waist and his body close enough that she could feel his heat against her back. The rumble of his voice sent delicious shivers down her spine.

"It feels like we're in someone's grandma's house. There's nothing sexy about this room," she murmured, distracted by his fingers stroking up and down along her hip.

"Hmm. I wouldn't say that."

The sound of the door closing sent Bella's heart racing. She closed her eyes and pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to breathe steadily. Electricity zinged through her body. She sighed, tilting her head when he pressed a kiss to the side of her hair.

Why did it feel so often like he knew? How did he know to stay still at first, barely nuzzling and pressing the tiniest of kisses at her ear? How did he know not to let his hands wander, that the feel of his soft touch at her hip was almost too much in that first minute. How did he know he only had to wait, that the energy between them would overpower the last of her inhibitions and fears?

She breathed in. Out. And turned. She grabbed each side of his leather jacket and hauled him to her, pressing up onto the balls of her feet to meet his mouth in a heated kiss. His hands slipped under her jacket, up her back, pressing every line of her against him.

They moved like music—a love ballad. Those first few minutes played like the first few strains of the guitar, a soft melody of kisses and roaming hands. Jackets and shoes slipped off. His shirt. Hers. She pushed him lightly and he sat on the bed. She straddled his lap, and he cupped her ass in both hands.

She writhed against him in a rhythm—pressed close, so their skin touched, and pulled back. Her fingers tangled in his hair.

He undid the clasp of her bra, and she straightened, breaking their kiss so he could get it off. Rather than claim her lips again, he bent his head, claiming her nipple instead. His tongue flicked against her, and she whispered his name hoarsely, her head thrown back. She made a strangled noise and he growled, the sound vibrating down to the center of her.

The beat of their ballad quickened. Edward flipped her onto her back. One second she was on his lap, wiggling and gasping and reveling in the exquisite pleasure of the things he was doing with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. The next she was staring up into his eyes. She huffed out a little laugh and reached out to smooth his hair. He was a beautiful man. And the way he was looking at her…

There weren't words.

It wasn't a song; it was a whole symphony. A concert. In her life, nothing else had ever compared to the raw power of music. Sound and lyrics swelling, filling the auditorium and sinking into the marrow of her bones. The well of emotion that caught in her throat. It was transcendent and consuming.

Nothing else had compared...until now.

Until Edward's eyes locked with hers and the rest of the world melted away. Until his touch sang to her, and her body answered his, the harmony to his melody. Until she was undone and remade in the fire he stoked inside her. The feel of him, the rasp of his voice as he chanted her name…

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. She cupped his cheek in one hand, breathing in the air he breathed out.

They came together.

She hadn't known that was a real thing. Or that it was possible to come so hard, her vision went white. Or that the weight of him, boneless and sweat-slick on top of her, could feel so good. Right.

A haze settled over them after. They were quiet, laying on their sides, kissing and touching randomly. His eyes were hooded as she expected hers were, yet neither of them let themselves drift off to sleep.

No way her dreams were better than her reality today.

His fingers tapped a particular rhythm against her hip. His mouth moved, but he sang silently.

"What are you doing?" Bella asked, watching him.

"Playing my guitar." He strummed against her belly. He sang to her then—Metallica's Nothing Else Matters.

As though he'd known what she was thinking—that together, they were music and lyrics. A soft, metal love ballad.

Her eyes stung. She closed them, but a tear escaped anyway. The song cut off, and she felt his thumb at her cheek, wiping away her tear. "You're crying. Why are you crying?" he whispered, brushing her hair back so he could kiss the shell of her ear.

She shivered at the sensation, and breathed in through her nose, wondering if she was really going to say the words in her head. Maybe she wasn't all that experienced with men, but she knew better than to admit to the intensity of what she was feeling just because they'd had sex. There were no promises between them. There'd been no talk of more.

But the way he was looking at her…

"I'm not doing the clingy girl thing right? You feel this, don't you?"

His eyes searched hers, but he nodded slowly.

She wasn't even relieved. She'd known without him having to say. Wherever they were, they were there together on the same page. She huffed and sniffled, tears overflowing from the corner of her eyes. "You're not my soulmate," she said, voice breaking. She took a shuddering breath. "I don't understand how anything could feel stronger than this, but you're not my soulmate."

* * *

 **A/N: Soooooo hi!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello, duckies. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. The next one is partially written though, so it should come much faster, methinks.**

* * *

They didn't talk about it. They didn't need to.

As dawn broke the morning after their night in Julian, they were still awake. They sat together out on the porch of their hotel room, Edward on the rocking chair and Bella cradled on his lap. He held her, fingers traveling the length of her spine, feeling her breath come and go. He breathed in her scent, nuzzling the top of her head. Her tears were hot against his neck.

They were two people trying to build themselves fresh in the wake of different disasters, deciding who they wanted to be and what their lives should look like. Maybe with time they would be in a better place as individuals—able to withstand the inevitable drama and heartbreak of a soulmate appearing to destroy this beautiful thing they'd found. They'd both followed their impulsive hearts in the past only to find out too late their hearts couldn't read a map.

It was time to be grownups.

So, they were trying to be just friends.

Which was why, a week after Julian, Edward had invited Bella to his room for a movie. Friends watched movies.

And if he felt a twinge below his belt at the sight of her stretched out on the bed beside him—fully clothed, obviously—well, he couldn't help that he was also a heterosexual man.

"I've been reading up on this Roger Rabbit character," Bella said.

Edward pointed the controller at the television and paused it. He turned to look at Bella, stretched out beside him on the bed. "You've been what?"

"Just some basic analysis on his character. And Jessica Rabbit's too."

"Why the hell would you do a thing like that?"

"I'm a college girl. I'm supposed to do these kinds of things. We're not supposed to just consume things mindlessly without critical thinking."

"You're telling me I'm supposed to think critically about the movie _Stepbrothers_? Two forty-something-year-old men acting like four-year-olds? _Dude Where's My Car_? _The Hangover_? What critical thought is there to give to _The Hangover_?" Edward's lips quirked. "Okay. And what did you discover about Roger and Jessica Rabbit?"

"They're asexual icons. Especially Jessica."

"Jessica Rabbit is an asexual icon?" He looked at the screen. "With a body like hers? And the va-va-vooms?"

She pointed a Cheeto at him. "Exactly. Everyone sexualizes her because of what she looks like, and she hates it. She's married to a rabbit. She married him because he makes her laugh. They play pattycake. Pattycake isn't sex."

"It's a cartoon movie. Pattycake means sex."

"Pattycake is pattycake. Jessica Rabbit is asexual and rabbit-romantic."

Edward nodded slowly, his lips pressed together. He sighed in an overly dramatic way and shook his head. "College kids are pretentious."

"You went to college."

"And I was pretentious." He smirked. "I grew out of it, though. Did the whole life of crime thing like a normal person."

"I'm young. I have time."

They grinned at each other. Then, she looked at his lips and the heat in the room changed. Edward shifted, his body angled toward her. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"You know what I want?" Bella asked, her eyes still on his lips.

"What?" The word came out pitched low, suggestive.

Her eyes flicked up to his. She held his gaze for a beat. Two.

"Popcorn," she said.

He blinked. Running a hand over his eyes, he laughed. "Popcorn." He leaned over, almost succumbing to the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Quickly, he pulled back and stood up. "Your wish."

Still smiling, he made his way to the door. He'd only gotten as far as the hallway before he stopped short, coming face to face with his little sister.

"Do you have a girl in your room?" She sounded way too gleeful.

For a second, Edward just stared. His brain didn't quite know how to process the accusation. He was guilty—that panicked feeling of being caught messing around with someone when you were just a teenager. That would have been bad enough, but his psyche still associated guilt and the feeling of getting caught with the guards in prison. His stomach twisted in knots and his testicles curled up into his body. His heart rate doubled, and he had to swallow hard to keep himself in the present. "What are you doing here?" he asked Alice in just above a hiss. Without waiting for an answer, he moved around her, heading for the stairs.

"I thought I'd pop in on the folks. Surprise them," Alice said, following him. "So, do you have someone in there?

"It's none of your business."

Alice made a high-pitched noise and clapped her hands. "You do have someone here." They'd reached the bottom of the stairs. "Tell me about her. Where did you meet? How many times have you gone out?"

Edward stopped just short of the kitchen. Alice barreled into him. He turned and scowled. "Look, get off my back, okay? It's none of your damn business."

A hurt look came over her face. Edward felt bad instantly. He sighed, shaking his head as he turned to head into the kitchen. He heard the shuffle of her feet, subdued now, as she followed him. He knew he owed her an apology, but he was also irritated. He dug through the pantry, moving things around with more force than necessary.

"Mom says you want to be a part of this family," Alice said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You never knew how. It didn't come naturally to you. Well, this is how."

Edward gritted his teeth but before he could retort, Alice went on. "No, maybe it's not my business, but I get to ask. That's part of what family does. They share things. Like when Emmett started dating Rosalie. I asked him the same things I asked you. He got out some ice cream and we sat in the living room giggling while he told me about how she was rough around the edges and so snotty and so high maintenance, but she'd said the words. He had no idea what fate was thinking, but he also couldn't stop thinking about her."

Edward unfolded the popcorn bag and shoved it in the microwave.

"You think a thirty-year-old guy would be talking to a college kid about his date?" Alice asked. "But he told me. He talked to me because I'm his sister, and that's what you do. I'm not trying to be a pain in the ass. I'm trying to be your sister."

It didn't come naturally to him to be part of a family, she'd said. If that wasn't hitting the nail on the head.

He rubbed his eyes as he turned around. He didn't look at Alice, but folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the counter. "It's not what you think anyway. Yes, Bella's in my room, but—"

"Bella?" Alice's eyebrows arched for her hairline. "Wait. My Bella?"

Edward's lip twitched. He'd honestly forgotten Bella was Alice's friend first. It seemed to him like she'd always been there. "We hit it off at the hospital. She took pity on me. Fed me."

"I remember you were talking when I came in." Alice crossed the kitchen to him and leaned back against the counter beside him. "You're also lying."

"What?" He turned his head to look at his little sister.

She smirked. "No one gets that defensive over 'just friends.' You were spiky because you thought I wouldn't be okay with you fooling around with my friend."

"Fooling around," Edward muttered under his breath. He didn't know why the words rubbed him the wrong way. "It's really not like that."

"Hmm. It'd be okay if it was, you know."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "It would, huh?"

"Sure. I love Bella, and I love you. You both deserve happiness."

"Right." Edward pushed off the counter and stopped the microwave.

Alice grabbed his arm, pulling him so he turned toward her. She stared, looking into his eyes. Edward ducked his head, pulling out of her grasp and turning his attention back to the microwave. Alice gasped. "You do want it. Her. You like her." Again, that giddy voice.

"Think about it." Edward forced his voice into a light tone. Joking. "It's not like there were a lot of pretty women in prison. She's not hard on the eyes. Who would throw her out of bed? But I'm all grown up, and I can control my libido." He took the popcorn from the microwave and tossed the bag on the counter. He started looking for a big enough bowl.

"That's not it."

"Alice."

"What? Oh, come on. What's the problem? You're single. She's single. You're both good people. I remember how good you were to your girlfriend before. Bella deserves that. Someone to be good to her."

"She does deserve that." Edward dumped the popcorn into the bowl he'd found, jaw clenched. "But not from me. It wouldn't work."

"Why can't it work?"

He spun on her. "Because, Alice. Look at me. Look at this." He gestured around him. "You're here visiting your parents. I live here. I should be beyond having a girl in my room like I'm a kid in high school. A room shouldn't be all I have. And really, I don't even have that. I don't pay for that room. I don't own anything in it. I have nothing. I am nothing."

Alice looked stricken, and Edward shook his head, turning away from her again. She sighed, and he felt the soft touch of her hand against his back. "There's nothing about any of that that makes you less, you know. You're not sitting on your ass. You're moving. That's what counts."

He scoffed. "Sure."

"If that's all that's holding you back, that's fixable. You have options."

Edward had a feeling he knew what was coming. He'd already heard this lecture from his parents. He craned his head back, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

Sure enough. "Let Mom and Dad call in a favor," Alice said. "Who cares how you get the job? You know you'll work hard."

"I have a job."

"A warehouse job. Where are you going to go with that? You have it better than a lot of people in your situation. You can be further along than you are. If you can't do it for you, then do it for Bella. Be better for her."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in and out deeply. His head swam with a brief glimpse of the future—a future where he was worthy enough to walk beside Bella, to be her partner and not just a burden weighing her down.

"It's not…" He huffed out a breath. "My pay-nothing, go-nowhere job is just the tip of the iceberg anyway. There's someone else out there for her. We know that for a fact."

"What are you talking about?"

"She has a soulmate. And sure, maybe that asshole won't have his head on straight any more than I do. Maybe he'll be…" Edward's throat closed off. What if Bella's soulmate was like his mother's? She and his father had been perfect for each other, but that made no difference to mental illness and a propensity for violence. "Maybe he won't be right for her either, but until I have my act together, what right do I have to ask her to take a chance on me?"

Alice frowned, and Edward thought she was going to argue. Instead, she nodded. "I get that."

"You do?"

"Sure. I had to wait for Jasper. I mean, he is my soulmate, but I had to wait for him." She grimaced. "The one who came before me was a heinous bastard. Maria. She fucked his head good and proper. He had to get his head back on straight before we got together."

Edward pressed his lips together, suppressing the urge to laugh. "Well...that's refreshing."

"What is?"

"Hearing that it's possible I just might be making the right choice in some aspect of my life." Granted, it wasn't the aspect he wanted. His heart ached. For once, he wished someone would tell him he was being a fool—both he and Bella were. Listen to any pop song. Love was supposed to be all he needed.

But he knew better.

Alice hugged him. "We're on your side, you know." She gave him one more squeeze and released him. "Now get back to your _friend._ Tell her hi, and that she'd better not replace me with you. I'm still the better Cullen."

Edward ruffled her hair. "Can't argue with that."

 _ **~0~**_

He kept offering to pick Bella up. Despite the fact her car made more sense on most occasions than his bike, she kept accepting.

It was, he knew, an excuse. It was the only reason he could think of that a friend, just a friend, would have her arms around him like this, her chest pressed against his back. He entertained idle fantasies as he leaned into the turn.

What if?

What if he veered off onto the highway? The sun was setting, streaking the sky with an orange bloom offset by pink clouds. He'd seen this part a million times in the movies. They could ride off into the sunset to find a new life somewhere far away from here. He didn't know what life was supposed to be out there for them. Where was this magical place where the complications of their lives would just fade away? Where the timing was right, and he could take her in his arms and never let her go?

Where he didn't have to be so god damned sensible?

But the world was what it was, and he could be good.

He pulled his bike into the lot of her apartment complex. He kicked the kickstand down and waited while she dismounted. He took his helmet off and set it on the seat, turning to face her. She was closer than he expected. He drummed his fingers against his jeans, wanting to reach for her.

"Thanks for the coffee break," she said, a small smile playing at her lips.

"You're welcome, although I still don't know if it was a good idea." He tilted his head down, flashing a teasing grin. "You were already manic when I called you."

"This is your brain on midterms. Just remember, if I fail, I'm blaming you taking me away from my study time."

"Being stressed out of your mind doesn't actually make you a better student." He reached forward, unable to help himself. When she'd removed her helmet, a long strand of hair had flopped over the wrong side. He brushed it back into place, careful not to turn the touch into a caress. "You should try mixing some procrastination in there somewhere."

She swayed, pitching just slightly forward on her feet. Closer. "Not all of us can mess around as much as you claim you did and still get good grades."

He hummed. She was looking at his lips again. A thrill went down his spine. "We all have to have a talent."

Her eyes flicked back up to his. The air between them sparked.

The sound of a car door slamming made Edward jump. He straightened up and then took a step backward when he registered the fact Charlie Swan was coming toward him.

"Dad?" Bella likewise took a step back. She stepped on Edward's toes and stumbled. He reached out, catching her and steadying her before she fell. As he did, he pulled her flush against him. Charlie's mouth set in a thin line.

Bella cleared her throat and stepped to the side, crossing her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here?" she asked her father.

Charlie grimaced. "How nice to see you too, Bella." He looked to Edward and nodded. "And you, Mr. Cullen, was it?"

Edward had to swallow hard. There was something about this man that rankled. He felt like a cat with its back arched, fur standing on end. He breathed in through his nose and offered a hand. "Senator."

Charlie took it and gave him a firm shake before turning back to his daughter. "I came to see you." After a beat, he sighed. "This is the part where you invite me in."

Bella looked to Edward and back to her father. A strange feeling curdled in Edward's gut. He found the man unpleasant, but there was no reason he should feel so uncomfortable leaving Bella alone with her father. The man was aggravating, but he wasn't going to hurt her.

Not physically, anyway.

That was probably the source of Edward's reluctance. Charlie always managed to do a number on Bella's head, and he hated to see it. But he recognized there was not much to be done about it. He reached out and gave Bella's shoulder a brief squeeze. "Don't worry so much about your midterms. You're going to do great."

He remounted his bike, watching with a dread he couldn't shake as Bella and Charlie disappeared behind closed doors.

* * *

 **A/N: Ut oh. I wonder what Daddy Dearest wants. Someone should ask the author.**

 **Wait a minute...**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Howdy, duckies! Hope you're having a fantastic weekend.**

 **So, last chapter, I lost track of the fact Alice already knew Edward and Bella hung out. I'm going to go back and edit it so it makes more sense. I'll let you know when I make the change.**

* * *

Bella's eyes swept the apartment. She grimaced. Since she hadn't been expecting company, her house wasn't magazine-neat, what she called it when the house had to be immaculate because they would be appearing in some publication or another. Part of Charlie's malfunction, his ever-present irritation, was what nothing ever remained magazine-neat. Not his home and certainly not his daughter.

"Our lives would be so much easier if we could figure out how to be good on paper," her mother had told her once. "And that's all they are. Better on paper. Better at playing the game. Not better than us. Some of them are a lot worse."

How different would her life have been if her mother had won the custody battle? But she hadn't, and now they were friendly strangers who'd never quite learned how to talk to each other.

Self-conscious, Bella picked up her sweater from where it had fallen on the floor. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked, trying to anticipate what her father would consider polite.

"When have I ever had a drink in your lifetime?"

Bella resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. "Something to drink, not a drink, Dad. Water. Soda. I might have juice. Would you like a beverage?"

He nodded. "Water is fine."

When she returned with his water, Charlie wasted no time. "You're still maintaining you and this man are just friends?"

She sunk down on the couch across from the chair he'd sat in. "Not that it's your business, but yes. We're friends." She took a steadying breath. "Look, Dad, I heard you the first time. I listened. He's complicated. I know that. I get it. So yeah, we're just friends. I'm trying to be smart about this."

Charlie was quiet, sipping his water as he considered her. "Do you know why I don't drink?"

"I wasn't trying to offer you booze," Bella insisted.

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you. This is called a segue."

Bella closed her eyes and counted to three. "Alcoholism runs in the family." She opened her eyes, working to make her tone even. "You and I had this conversation a lot when I was sixteen."

"For what little good it did me," Charlie said gruffly. "These aren't things we can afford to ignore. We're genetically predisposed, so I don't partake. It doesn't matter that I could be a social drinker and be fine. If there's a possibility I could ruin my life by doing something, I don't do that thing."

Bella stared at him a few beats before she realized what was happening. "Edward is the social drink. That's what you're trying to say."

"Why tempt an addiction into existence?"

"Love isn't an addiction. It's not a disease."

Bella realized her mistake the split second after the words were out of her mouth. Love. Who on earth had said anything about love?

"So, you're in love with him." Charlie's tone was flat. Unsurprised and unamused.

"That's not what I meant."

"Bella—"

"I don't know what you want from me!" Bella swallowed hard, trying to lower her voice. "Why isn't it enough that I listened to you? That's what you've always wanted, isn't it? For me to listen? People do irrational things when they're in love or when they think they're in love. I don't need to try to define myself around someone else when I'm barely figuring out who I am and what I want.

"Not being with him feels like fighting nature. You don't have to tell me how stupid that sounds. I know. But I'm fighting it. And he's not pushing me either, by the way. So much for your whole theory about what a guy like him wants with a woman like me. We're friends. You can't make me feel bad about being friends with someone."

Charlie held his hand out. "Enough, Bella. No need to get melodramatic about it." He smoothed non-existent wrinkles from his shirt. "You're right. You listened, which is a refreshing change of pace. You're clearly trying to do what's best for you even though, as you say, it's like fighting nature." He didn't roll his eyes when he said the words, but she heard it in his tone. He nodded. "You're an adult. This is your life. If you want to make things harder for yourself, well, that's your prerogative. You're progressing. That's not nothing."

Bella was startled. She ran over the words in her head. Not perfect but coming from her father that could almost be constituted as praise. She was unreasonably pleased.

Her life would be so much easier if she didn't care so much what her father thought.

"In any event. I didn't come here to give you a hard time about your not-boyfriend," Charlie said. "Though I can't say it's not somewhat about him." He sighed. "I need a favor from you."

"A favor?"

He exhaled in a gust and gestured with one hand. "As you know, I'm gearing up for a presidential run. Having your vocal support would be a tremendous benefit to me."

"It would… Wait. What?" Bella shook her head, wondering if she'd heard right. "Do you mean me supporting you by staying as far away from your campaign as possible would be a benefit to you?"

"Isabella." He shook his head. "I know you like to assume the things I think and feel about you." He cleared his throat and nodded decisively. "You've come a long way. You made your mistakes, but I can see you're bouncing back nicely. You're well on your way to becoming a success story."

Bella flexed her fingers on her knees. She didn't quite know how to process her father's words. Again, they were something resembling praise and yet…

Would he care at all unless he could take some credit for her success.

"Edward is… Well, he might be a criminal, but he's the kind of criminal people can understand at a glance. That's what I meant about this favor I'm asking being partially his fault. As I told you they would, the media found out who he was. I've gotten some questions, but I'll admit they weren't nearly as bad as I figured they would be." He rolled his eyes, waving a hand. "White collar crime is different whether it should be or not. He's not a hooligan."

"Hooligan? Really?"

"You'd prefer thug? The point is, his presence in you life can be spun. If he's a friend." Her father eyed her. "Because he's just a friend, right?"

"Dad."

Charlie spread his hands wide. "Fine." He leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring it when she jumped. "The media is asking about you. And frankly, I'd personally like it if you were more involved. Can I count on your support? Will you be there with us?"

"I...You want me there?" None of this computed. She searched his face and saw only sincerity. Not that it was proof of anything. He was a politician. He'd mastered that face before she was born. "But I've always been an embarrassment. I cause scenes."

"As you pointed out, it's been years since you've caused trouble. I think it's long past due that I recognize that. I'm sincerely sorry it's taken so long."

"I…" Bella wished she didn't feel so discombobulated. Often, she'd fantasized about putting her father in his place; making him realize she was a good person—maybe even better than him. Always, she had imagined herself being poised and eloquent. In reality, she was too many things at once, pulled in too many directions to form a halfway coherent response.

"I won't be angry whatever you decide."

She had trouble believing that. But, regardless, she nodded. "Yeah." She had to swallow hard around the scratchy quality of her voice. "Yeah, yes. Of course. I'll be there."

 _ **~0~**_

"I feel like I'm sending you off to war or something. This feels so wrong." Alice shook her head carefully brushing blush along Bella's cheekbones. "You know, it's funny. My parents raised me to vote, and all that. They always taught me that politicians make mistakes, but for the most part, they're trying to do what they think is right. But I've never trusted them. I think it's because, when I was really young, I have vague memories of hearing about something that happened to Edward."

A thrill went down her spine at the sound of his name. Bella had to struggle to keep still, which she told herself was ridiculous. "Edward?"

"Yeah. He was always in trouble back then. I'm sure he's told you. They had him in all kinds of juvenile delinquent programs.

"So, one of them is this whole idea that kids his age could use something to occupy their free time. Idle hands, you know. Pillars of the community got together to offer these kids little jobs. It was making their free time productive and let them see the value of providing a service for someone else."

"Sure. That sounds familiar," Bella said with a nod. Her father had talked about programs like that more than once. Though he was one of the hypocritical ones. He talked a good game, but somehow, he never managed to come up with an odd job that could be done by a wayward teenager.

"Edward got sent over to this guy's house. Some politician gearing up to run for public office. He was supposed to babysit for an hour. Problem is, he tripped. Nothing happened." Alice held her hands out, speaking quickly. "He kept the baby safe, but the guy flipped out on him. Got him kicked out of the program like he tried to punt the kid or something." She shook her head. "Edward was trying to be on his best behavior at that point, trying to straighten up. The guy made it a lot harder on him to catch a break."

"Doesn't surprise me," Bella admitted. "Politicians have that whole self-righteous thing going on. But he's being pretty transparent. He hasn't promised me anything, and he made it clear this would be me doing him a favor. Unless he's gotten into something really nefarious, I think I'm safe."

"True." Alice stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "And looking camera ready."

"Camera ready." Bella blanched. "What the hell did I get myself into?"

 _ **~0~**_

An hour into the event, Bella regretted everything. She'd barely stepped foot onto the grass—the event was being held on the lawn of some club—when a gaggle of reporters were on her. To his credit, his father had coached her as much as he could. He'd reminded her that the press—always a pain in her ass—would be ten times worse for a presidential hopeful. Crying "fake news" was pushing it, but she was well aware the media twisted words to make for more exciting headlines.

To that end, Charlie had helped her with a few succinct answers to the inevitable questions. Yes, she was aware that Edward Cullen was recently released from prison. He'd taken responsibility for what he had done, had paid his debt to society, and was working hard to become a success story of the criminal justice system. Her father had some ideas on how to improve that system and they probably should ask him about it.

They slid in a few questions she ignored. About her love life. About her politics and the trouble she'd been in and out of as a teen.

About her son.

She knew they were trying to get a reaction. She knew they wanted fodder. After she'd lost her son, there'd been some speculation in a few scattered articles wondering just what she'd done to cause his premature birth. Drugs? Violence? She'd hung out primarily with a group of boys, most of whom was in some kind of trouble with the law. Who'd been the father of her child. Did she even know?

As a senator's daughter, the speculation had been embarrassing but had gone away quickly enough. Now, though…

Life was going to get interesting.

It was, remarkably, her father who saved her from the gaggle. His tone was affable, charming as he could be, as he traded good-natured barbs with the reporters. He offered his arm, and she took it, glad to have something sturdy to lean on. She let him lead her away. Her face was red hot, and her heart raced.

"I am not voting for you," she said through gritted teeth.

"I haven't even announced my candidacy yet."

"Yeah? Don't."

"I'll take that into consideration," he said with a chuckle.

Bella exhaled slowly. Then, she laughed too.

Her father was conversing with her, teasing. Like she was more than just a problem he had to solve, a liability he had to deal with. She fanned her face with a free hand. The weather wasn't helping her cool down. "I bet someone's regretting deciding to hold this thing outside."

"It's unseasonably hot today," Charlie agreed. "But it does make for the perfect segue into a discussion about global warming. Come on. There are some people I'd like to introduce you to—"

She groaned.

"—and they happen to be loitering around the lemonade and iced tea."

Bella squared her shoulders. Do it for the iced tea, she encouraged herself.

Which was how she found herself practicing her smile as she was introduced to a surprisingly young group of politicians. None of them were more than a few years older than her—late twenties, possibly one in his early thirties.

"These fine people are the conservative answer to the accusation they're out of touch," Charlie announced. "All of them are involved in politics at some level. Mr. Scarpinato over here is a shoo-in for a House seat. I have to admit I find them much more palatable than their elderly counterparts, but still." He addressed the group. "I'm warning all of you to be careful. This is my only daughter. I expect you not to corrupt her with your Republicaness."

A man with sleek black hair and a grin Bella found unnerving, the one her father had called Mr. Scarpinato, looked her up and down. He spoke in an airy voice. "From what I understand, your daughter might benefit from our brand of corruption."

Bella tensed, but Charlie waved a hand. "Bygones."

He proceeded to introduce her to the group. Four men and two women. Aro, Heidi, Marcus, Felix, Jane, and Demetri. He gave their positions—all of them held some kind of political appointment, all of which flew right out of Bella's head. She dutifully greeted them with "nice to meet you," and a firm handshake, just as she'd been taught. Playing the game willingly. How surreal. All of them were equally polite—Felix more creepy with the way he wouldn't let go of her hand right away and Jane never breaking out of her resting bitch face. They all greeted her politely except the last.

Demetri, the youngest looking of them and the unlikely mayor of a city nearby, only smiled and nodded. He was handsome—tall with sandy, restless hair and brilliant blue eyes. He had a nice smile.

It didn't escape her notice that his eyes lingered on her as the rest of the group made small talk. It didn't make her uncomfortable. He didn't give off the creeper vibe Felix and Aro did. She was, she knew, a relatively attractive woman. She didn't mind when people recognized that.

"Well, I'll leave you young people alone," Charlie said. He turned to Bella, offering her an iced tea. "See if you can bring them over to the right side."

"Sure, Dad." Her smile for him was genuine. She recognized his gesture for what it was—an attempt to alleviate what he knew was a trying ordeal for her by letting her talk with a group of people she might actually have something in common with.

Small talk wasn't her favorite thing to do, but it wasn't torture. And once her father walked away, most of them seemed to relax a little more, skirting the edge of that stiff attitude Bella had always associated with these kinds of events. Determined to be the dutiful daughter if only this once—if Charlie could try, she could too—Bella made sure to engage with each of them.

Though he'd been checking her out earlier, it took some doing to mark Demetri off her mental checklist. He was staring off, seemingly distracted by something in the distance. She couldn't catch his eye.

Finally, she resorted to the most direct approach. "Demetri," she said, prepared to ask him how exactly someone who looked as young as he did became a mayor.

His head turned in her direction, and he smiled ruefully. He brought a napkin up to pat daintily at the back of his neck. "Fuck a duck. It's hot today."

Bella's glass slipped from her hand, iced tea splashing up to spray them all.

* * *

 **A/N: Sooooooooo...**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Well, hello there!**

* * *

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

This couldn't be happening. Edward turned down another alleyway and stopped short, running a hand through his hair and tugging on it hard. He needed a clear head, but that wasn't going to happen. That was the whole problem.

Why was he so goddamned stupid?

Taking a deep breath, Edward forced himself to stop lamenting his poor life choices and prioritize. He needed to get out of there. He took his phone out and blinked.

Right. Who did he want to tell about this? Who, in the shit show that was his life, did he want to tell he needed a ride because he was drunk off his ass and maybe, kind of, sort of had just been in the middle of a bar brawl and had barely gotten out of there before the cops came?

God, he was a fucking asshole.

His finger hovered over the last number he'd called. Bella. She would understand. Of everyone in the world, she would understand only too well.

But no. He couldn't do that.

His parents? No. Hell no. Alice? He couldn't bear to think of her disappointment. She'd been young enough when he was sent up that she hadn't quite lost the admiration a little sister had for her big brother. He didn't want her to see him the way everyone else did—an inevitable screw-up.

Only one choice left. He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut as he called. "Em?"

Half an hour later, Emmett sat him down across from him at a diner, ordered a cup of black coffee and told him to talk. "How much trouble are you in?"

"I don't… I don't know." His head was still so clouded.

"Did you hurt someone?" Emmett jabbed a finger in his direction. "I have a sick wife and kid at home. If you just made me an accessory to something, driving you away from a crime scene…"

"There's no… Jesus." Edward scrubbed a hand over his face. "No one was hurt. Or if they were, it wasn't me who did it." He put both his hands on the table, showing his knuckles. He hadn't thrown a single punch, so they were unmarred.

Emmett looked confused. "So a fight broke out and you bolted when the cops came? What were you worried about?" He broke out in a smile. "Being drunk in a bar isn't actually a crime no matter what Mom would have you believe."

Edward's lip twitched. "I guess not." He cradled his coffee cup, considerably calmer than he had been a minute before. "I knew it was coming. I didn't start it, but I could have stopped it. The guy who started it? He was looking for an excuse, and I gave it to him."

"What, can you read minds now?"

"I know trouble when I see it."

He had been minding his own business. Wallowing. A group of guys, particularly one asshole, had ambled up and tried to engage Edward in conversation. He'd resisted.

It wasn't that Edward owed the jackass any words at all. It was more the fact that Edward knew the type. Had he engaged just a little—one word answers here and there—the man would have lost interest and ambled off to bother someone else. But a guy like that hated being ignored. So, Edward had ignored him until the guy, in a fit of bravado, challenged him to pool.

Edward had accepted. Again, wisdom would tell him to let the guy win. But by then, Edward's anger had gotten the best of him. Already hurting, mad at the world, he'd played for blood, embarrassing the asshole in front of his crew. And when confronted, he'd said something along the lines of, "Your mom."

"Were you trying to get hit?" Emmett asked, though he seemed more amused than anything else.

"Probably," Edward admitted. He laughed then without much humor. "But when he punched me, I ducked. He stumbled into the guy behind me."

"And then…"

Edward mimicked an explosion with his hands.

"Well hell." Emmett drummed his fingertips on the table. "But you didn't hit anyone?"

"No."

"Then I don't get how you think you're in trouble."

Edward huffed.

"You called me so you wouldn't drive drunk. Yeah, bro. You're good."

"Well. That's new." Edward rubbed the back of his head, a touch embarrassed at his panic. Cops made him nervous.

Emmett paused. "So, are you going to tell me what started all this? The drinking, I mean. Just… bad day?"

Edward hesitated, but only for a beat. He heard Alice's voice in his head telling him this was what family did. He was just drunk enough to let the truth slip out willingly.

But no sooner had Bella's name left his mouth than Emmett slapped his hand on the table. "I knew it. I knew this had something to do with her. I told her."

"You told who?" Edward furrowed his brow. "Told what?"

"Bella. I told her to be careful with you."

"You did what?"

"They have a way of messing with your head. Your life, right?"

"Who?"

"Women." Emmett smiled. "Bella didn't tell you? I saw you two in the hospital one night when you were visiting Henry."

"Oh." Edward winced. "Hey, I'm sorry—"

But Emmett waved him off. "Don't worry about that. What I'm saying is that I told her to be careful. She's a nice kid. Really great. It's just she gives that vibe."

"What vibe?"

"Like you. Like trouble always seems to find the two of you. Not your fault. Just kind of how it is, but the last thing you need is to double your luck."

Edward blinked at his brother. Then, he laughed and put his head down in his hands. "That's…" He raised his head and nodded. "That's sweet of you, actually. But you can't blame her. She was careful."

He told his brother the short version. They'd met. They'd fallen. They'd decided it was bad timing. And then...there was Demetri.

The name tasted like bile in his mouth. Or maybe he was just beginning to sober up. He was still drunk enough that he didn't stop the words from tumbling out. It was pathetic to his own ears. He and Bella had never started anything; not really. Nothing had happened. Not to him.

"I just…" He hung his head and laughed again. "I know she was never mine, but it was the thought of seeing her with someone else. We're friends. And even if we weren't, she's friends with Alice. And you. I kept thinking of her showing up at parties. Christmas. Birthdays. With him. Seeing them." He shook his head hard. The thought of it made his stomach churn and his hands clench into fists. "I don't want to see it. I guess I didn't feel like being grown up about it right then."

"Yeah, I get that."

Edward looked at the other man. "You do?"

Emmett grinned at him. "Hey, bro. This is the normal kind of trouble; not your usual variety." He sobered, waving a hand. "This is the kind of trouble you're supposed to get in. I told you. Women have a way of messing with your head. You think I've never had to get good and drunk over a woman? And she was your first, uh, you know… after you got out, right?"

Edward narrowed his eyes. "That had nothing to do with anything."

"Not saying it did, but it didn't help. Probably made things more intense."

Checking his defensiveness, Edward thought about that. It didn't feel right. What he felt for Bella was so real to him; more tangible than any other relationship he'd been in. Not something born of a mandatory six year break from a woman's tender touch. But… "It probably didn't help," he allowed grudgingly.

"So they're together?" Emmett asked. "A couple? Just like that? It's a done deal?"

"Well, no. It's complicated." His lip twitched. "She hit him."

Emmett's mouth gaped. "What? Why?"

"It was an accident. She was in shock."

He couldn't say he didn't feel a measure of vindictive pleasure at the idea. He wanted, badly, to hit Demetri. Shock wasn't the right word for the wrecking ball that had slammed into his gut when Bella had dropped her bombshell. He'd been devastated, but he'd had to swallow it down. Bella had been frantic and flustered, pacing as she recounted the story. In her shock, she'd dropped her drink and stumbled. Demetri had reached for her to steady her. The movement had startled her, and she'd hit him hard across the face without thinking.

They'd been on the news. The mayor who had a bloody nose because of a senator's daughter. Demetri had laughed it off publicly, irritatingly giving Edward no real reason to loathe him. He hated the attention Bella was getting in the press, but that wasn't Demetri's fault.

"They're not jumping into anything," Edward said, answering Emmett's original question. "Just talking right now. Getting to know each other."

"Then hey, why worry about it? Nothing is set in stone."

"Isn't that the whole point? Soulmates are set in stone."

"Sure, but what the hell does that mean? So he's her soulmate. The yin to her yang. Whatever. Real life gets more complicated than that." Emmett held out his phone, displaying an article. He'd Googled Demetri while they were talking. "He's also a Republican—the kind who, apparently, thinks conversion camps aren't really that bad. Ew. Something like that wouldn't sit well."

He shook his head. "Nobody has ever been able to figure out what perfect for you really means, what it is to have a soulmate. Is it all about the best shot at reproduction like all other evolution? Who cares about that? We're not all meant to procreate, and there's enough of us as a species anyway. And you know better than anyone someone being 'perfect' for someone doesn't mean they're good for them. Your parents were soulmates."

Edward shuddered. He didn't want to think about Bella's relationship with Demetri turning out anything like his parents' had.

"Anyway." Emmett waved a hand. "The point is, there's nothing saying this whole soulmate thing will last for them. It sure as hell sounds like they're in very different places. There's nothing about soulmates that guarantees they can make it work or that they even should. The whole thing is crazy."

"You married your soulmate, Em."

"Yeah. And I got no regrets, but sometimes, man…" Emmett looked around, as though making sure no one was listening. He leaned forward across the both. "I love my wife. She and I? We think the same. We're cut from the same cloth. It's intense, but it's also…" He shrugged. "We think the same way but not necessarily about the same things. She fills in all my blank spaces, but that also means she's really extra where I'm relaxed. The woman makes me tired, Edward. So tired. I don't mean that in a bad way. She's a challenge, and I like that, but I can also see the benefit of choosing to just not. Like if I'd had the life you've had, just for instance? Maybe, if I were you, I'd rather my partner was just a little lower maintenance.

"I'm telling you, man. I don't know whether I'm coming or going when it comes to soulmates. I kind of hate the fact we know. Would Bella even have looked twice if she didn't know about the soulmate sentence?" Emmett gestured at him. "And people like you really can't know because your sentence was generic."

"So was Demetri's. 'Nice to meet you.'"

"Exactly. Would he have known if Bella hadn't told him?" Emmett cocked his head, looking far off. "Then again, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have tried anything with Rosie. Before she opened her mouth, I'd put her in the 'you can look—a good, long, hard look—but you can't touch' category. In my case, I'm glad I had to look twice."

"Not helping, Emmett." Edward wiped a hand over his eyes.

"Right. Sorry. Anyway. The point is, you do you. You have other things to worry about. Maybe they'll work out. Maybe they'll crash and burn. Why worry about something that might happen? You got nowhere to go but on."

 **~0~**

There were a few politically oriented blogs and few news publications who thought of Demetri and Bella's relationship—if one could call it that—as a human interest story. The troubled daughter of a Democratic senator soulmates with a young, Republican mayor?

At her father's prompting, Bella had attended a few events with Demetri. Always fundraisers for various, non-objectionable causes. There was no harm in looking nonpartisan for the sake of charity. Bella didn't mind playing politics on her father's behalf. After years of being an embarrassment in the press, she was actually enjoying the fact her father found her useful. He was transparent with her, and while the idea he was using his daughter as a pawn didn't sit well with Edward, he understood her desire to be in on the game.

But as for her relationship with Demetri…

Edward had met with Bella just to talk, hang out. They were still friends, and friends could do that.

Ever since she'd told him that her soulmate had appeared, he'd wanted nothing so much as to hold her. She'd been so frantic about it. But he'd been afraid. If he touched her, took her into the shelter of his arms, he didn't know that he could let her go again. From his skin to the marrow of his bones, he ached for her.

That day, some weeks after Demetri appeared, Edward buckled. She'd been talking about the latest soiree they'd attended, and she looked so conflicted. She needed a hug, and he was so done denying her. He'd opened his arms and she came willingly, sitting on his lap and burrowing her face in his neck. She fit so perfectly tucked underneath his chin.

"Is it supposed to be like this?" she'd whispered against his skin. "I look at him and feel nothing. I don't understand this. No matter what, even if it was bad, this was supposed to have an impact. This was written from the day I was born. The possibility of this was why you and I didn't…" She swallowed hard. "I don't understand."

She sounded so small and confused it broke his heart.

"Maybe it's me," she said. "My prejudices. Some of the things he thinks… The things he votes for… But he's nice. He's done good things. He does care about the people in his city. There's a lot I like about him. He's okay to be around.

"Am I blocking this? Some kind of mental block? Am I trying no to feel something because of the semantics of who we are? Am I just not giving him a chance because I don't want to?"

Edward didn't want her to give Demetri a chance. So, he stayed quiet. He just held her, soaking up every second because he knew he would have to let her go.

 _ **~0~**_

Time passed.

Henry and Rosalie both got better, stronger.

Bella completed her second year of college and started her third. She couldn't decide on a major.

Edward let his parents convince him to give up his go-nowhere job and let them call in a favor. It wasn't what he wanted, but what in life had ever gone his way? He had qualms, but at least it meant he was able to afford his own place.

Bella continued to see Demetri. Nothing continued to happen. He was nice enough. Enjoyable at times. A gentleman with a decent sense of humor. But there was no spark. He was like a puzzle Bella felt she had to figure out. There was supposed to be an intrinsic link between them. Cut from the same cloth. Two halves of the same whole. Bella didn't see it, and that continued to confuse her. She was a tenacious person, struggling to figure it all out when Edward privately wished she would just let it go. But she couldn't shake the idea she was missing something.

Edward continued to pretend it didn't feel like a knife in his gut every time he saw a picture of them. They were never intimate, but he hated the idea this asshole so much as made her smile. The whole situation grated, and he couldn't let it go, couldn't seem to learn to breathe around it.

Then, one night, the phone rang. It was two in the morning. "Hello?" Edward was in that groggy place between sleep and wakefulness.

"Edward?"

"Bella?" Edward sat bolt upright in bed, blinking hard. Something was wrong. He knew it from the ragged sound of her voice and the way she panted into the phone. He shook off sleep and clutched his phone, looking around the dark room as though the danger were there.

"Oh, god. Oh, god. Edward." She groaned, and then, she whimpered.

"What's happening? Are you hurt?"

"I… Yeah… I…"

"Bella, where are you?"

She didn't answer, though he could hear her breathing.

"Bella," he said more urgently.

"I need you," she whispered.

"You got me, baby. Whatever you need. Just tell me where you are. Are you at home?"

"I… No, I… Oh, god. Shit. What did I…"

"Bella, take a deep breath, sweetheart. Just breathe."

"I killed him."

Edward's heart dropped down to his toes. He exhaled in a gust. "What?"

"I killed him." The words came out strangled—raw and terrible. She'd started to hyperventilate. "Oh, god. Oh, god. I think he's dead. I need you. Help me."

* * *

 **A/N: Look. I don't know if this is any consolation, but just as Betsy was reading this chapter and yelling at me, I was nursing my daughter. The little monster bit me. Really hard. So like...don't worry, because karma, right?**

 **Also, you partially have QuantumFizzx to thank for this. This was born of a brainstorming session with her. She is my new partner in crime. I mean, plot.**

 **I'm going to try to make this a priority, but fair warning… There's a hectic time for me coming up. Thank you so much for your patience.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey, guys. Thanks again for all your patience! It's been a heck of a year.**

* * *

Bella had had a concussion once. It'd been terrible—nothing like in the movies when you were knocked out and, once you woke up, you were back on your feet and fine again. A real concussion came with relentless nausea, rolling waves of dizziness, and ringing in her ears. Worst of all was the disorientation. Her thoughts had weight, and they moved sluggishly through her foggy mind.

She wasn't concussed—a little dazed—but it was a million times worse tonight. Her disjointed, disoriented thoughts were tinged around the edges with a profound fear. Dread rested like a rock in her stomach, bringing raw memories to the surface. She remembered what it was like when her son was born, how the knowledge that she would have to watch him slip away weighed on her heart and in her gut. The feeling of inescapability, that she had done something awful and irrevocable, made her skin crawl.

"But...he's not dead?" she whispered. "Demetri isn't dead?"

"Not yet," Edward said, his tone dark and dangerous. "He's in surgery."

Bella closed her eyes and blew out a breath. "I didn't kill him."

"Good thing, because I'm going to."

A surge of fear went through her, and ice spilled through her veins. She relieved those moments from just hours before—violence, screaming, pain. She imagined Edward caught up in the middle of all that. Blood everywhere. A blooming stain spreading wide over his shirt. Covering her hands. So much blood.

"No! No, I—" Her words cut off, lost to a fit of coughing. Bella hunched in on herself, trying to breathe through the pain and irritation each cough sent through her in a wave. She ached and her throat hurt.

"Shit," she heard Edward muttered a split second before she felt his soft, warm touch on her hair. "I'm right here, baby. I didn't mean to upset you. Just breathe."

He held a straw to her lips, helping her sip the water some helpful nurse had left for her. It did little to soothe the pain—it was as though she'd swallowed gravel—but it quelled the irritation enough that she could speak in a rasp again. "Just don't want you near him."

"Hah, well, that makes two of us." He smoothed her hair away from her face. "I hate that they brought him to the same hospital. I hate that he's anywhere near you." His eyes traveled over her, tightening at the corners.

She must have been a sight. One wrist in a cast. Blood matting her hair and flecking her skin. If the bruise at her throat looked as bad as it felt…

Tears blurred her vision, and she shook her head hard, as though that might clear it. "I don't understand," she whispered, mostly to herself.

"He's a psychopath," Edward muttered.

"No. I don't mean I don't understand why he did it. I…" She shook her head again. Why couldn't she think straight? "I...he overreacted. He was scared."

"Don't make excuses for him." Edward's voice was rough, angry.

"Not excuses. Not saying he isn't an asshole. Just…" She huffed out a breath and closed her eyes, trying yet again to put all the pieces together.

There'd been a party. Endless parties. Fundraisers. Benefits. There was always a party to attend. Trying to be a supportive daughter, Bella had been to a fair few of them the last few months.

With Demetri? That part had been hard to tell. They talked beforehand. They knew they would see each other there. But was she there with him when they arrived separately? They shared the occasional dance, but they ran in different circles, which was to be expected, given their divergent political beliefs. Despite the expectation, Demetri had never tried to claim her as his—had never tried to kiss her or even touched her with romantic intent.

That evening, she thought she finally understood why.

Edward already knew what had happened, but she said the words anyway. If she kept putting the pieces together, maybe this whole thing would eventually make sense.

"I walked in on him kissing another man. Felix." She wrinkled her nose. Demetri was palatable, but Felix was vile. "That secret. If he's gay, or…" She furrowed her brow. "Bi? Either way. It'll destroy him. If people knew. It would destroy his life, his future. Everything he's worked for."

"To hell with his future."

"I'm not saying he was right. I'm saying it's not a mystery. I saw something he didn't want anyone in the world to know, and he…" She waved her good hand.

"Acted like a psychopath," Edward supplied.

Bella ducked her head, taking a shuddering breath. "Yeah." She shook, fighting a wave of emotion and wiping furiously at the tears that spilled over.

"Bella." Edward leaned on the sideboard of her hospital bed, taking her hand and stroking her back with the gentlest of touches. "He's not going to hurt you. Never again."

"I know." She squeezed his hand hard. His tender touch, his nearness, had a calming effect on her. He was a port in the storm. Her rock. With him sitting next to her, she felt safe. Sheltered. Warm.

And that? That made the confusion worse. "I just don't understand this," she whispered.

"What?"

"I felt nothing for him. I feel nothing for him. The soulmate thing...It was supposed to mean something. I know it doesn't make him good for me, but it was supposed to mean something. But if he's gay… I don't understand. What was the point? Of me being around him at all. Of staying away from you? What was the point? I was happy." She raised her head, staring into his beautiful eyes and just aching. "We could have been so happy."

He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek, head tilted as he cupped her cheek. She watched as he swallowed hard, his eyes studying her face. "The soulmate thing was just the tip of the iceberg of all the reasons I don't make any sense for you."

Her chest tightened. "Edward—"

He squeezed her hand. "We have time to work on all that. I have time to be the man you deserve." He leaned over the railing between them and tilted his forehead to rest against hers. "The asshole in charge of the universe decided I'm not the other half of your soul. That's fine. You're all my heart. I'm yours, if you want me."

With his words, the storm in Bella's head quieted. She raised her aching body off the bed just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I want you."

And there was nothing at all confusing about that. It felt right.

Fuck soulmates. Fuck the idea her perfect other was written in the stars, destined from birth. Fuck the idea she had no choice in the matter. She'd found Edward all on her own. To hell with anyone, her father and the universe included, who thought they knew what she needed better than she did.

 _ **~0~**_

The police caught up with her soon after that.

It wasn't as though she'd been hiding from them. Her priority had been to get away from the house, away from the man who'd tried to kill her. It had taken her minutes to process what had happened, to realize what she'd done to him and that she was in bad shape herself. She'd called 9-1-1 to send the ambulance after Demetri, and then, she'd called Edward.

The cops seemed annoyed that they'd had to track her down, but it wasn't as though she'd been down at the coffee shop. It was the early hours of the morning—the sun barely making an appearance. The last six hours of her life had been a blur of doctors, nurses, pinches, pokes, prods, and questions.

And Edward promising he was hers. It was so fitting to the narrative of both their lives—just a little fucked up but maybe they were going to get it right this time.

There was even a hint of rationality to it. Her soulmate had put her in the hospital. Edward was there for her, lending support, holding her hand as she answered questions for the police. He was a true partner.

"I left the party right after I saw Demetri with Felix," Bella said, recounting events.

"Were you upset?" Officer Birdy asked.

"No. I was confused."

Birdy quirked an eyebrow. "You'd just seen your boyfriend half-dressed with another man. That didn't upset you?"

"No. He isn't my boyfriend. Things weren't like that between us."

"But he's your soulmate."

"That's why I was confused."

Birdy huffed, scribbling something down in his notepad. "And then what happened?"

"I was almost to my place when he started blowing up my phone."

"Calling or texting?"

"Calling."

Birdy nodded. "You didn't respond to him right away?"

Now, it was Bella's turn to quirk an eyebrow. "I was driving."

"Right. Then what?"

Bella took a deep breath. Edward stroked her knuckles with his thumb, and that soothed her somewhat. "When I was safe in the parking lot at my place, I called Demetri back. I started asking him a lot of questions. Things that really weren't any of my business."

"Such as?"

"If he was gay or bi. If it had been going on a long time between him and Felix. I wasn't angry," she said again, her throat tight with nerves. "The whole soulmate thing… It's been confusing for me. And I was kind of stuck on that. I didn't notice if he was getting agitated. Maybe he felt attacked? I don't know. But he asked me… he begged me to come to his place so we could talk."

Her heart began to pound, her breath stuttering as she tried to remember the sequence of events. "He opened the door and offered me a drink." He'd been so formal—stiff and proper. "We were in the kitchen."

Obviously reacting to the tremor in her voice, Edward shifted, splaying his hand wide on her back. He rubbed in slow circles, and she breathed easier. "He was… It didn't make much sense. He started to talk about how it was just a mistake. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much. And then he started to deflect. He changed the subject completely. To us. That we're soulmates and we should give it a real try. He said I was marriage material."

Beside her, Edward made a small noise in the back of his throat. She didn't look at him, but she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I was… I didn't know what to say," she continued. "Maybe I didn't react well. I told you, our relationship wasn't like that. I don't feel that way about him, and he never showed that kind of interest in me before." She had to take another steadying breath. "But it was like a flip switched in him. He was calm. Maybe babbling a little but calm." Actually, his tone was condescending. Like he was speaking with a child whom he wasn't interested in conversing with but wished would do exactly as he told her to. "The more I said no way, the more frustrated he got." She swallowed hard, her throat seeming to throb. "Then, he grabbed me."

Things moved fast then. She hadn't reacted well to him getting physical. She remembered the way he shook her—hard enough her teeth rattled. She'd tried to run, but he'd grabbed her, twisted her arm behind her back as he pinned her face forward with her head against the counter. Was that when he'd broken her wrist? She remembered the sharp rush of pain, and the sound of her own scream. She'd been stunned, fighting shock and pain to try to fight back as he growled in her ear—his tone a dangerous hiss.

"He wanted…" Bella fought hard against the tremor in her voice. "It wasn't a sex thing. He wasn't touching me that way." The thought had crossed her mind as she was pinned beneath him. "It was like us being in an actual relationship would fix things. He just wanted me to agree to his plan, his version of what was going on. But he had his other hand on my head. He kept… He kept bumping my head into the counter."

Just enough. Not smashing, but enough to make it hard to think, as though the panic wasn't doing a good job of that already.

"And then," the officer prompted.

"Like I said, we were in the kitchen. My right hand was free. I guess…" Despite the fact she was sitting upright in a hospital bed, the wave of dizziness that washed over her threatened to knock her over. "I guess there was a knife."

"You guess?" The officer fixed her with a look.

"It was all a blur. I wasn't really thinking about anything. I just needed to get away from him before he hurt me worse. I hit him with what was in my hand. The knife, I guess? He yelled. And he let go of me. But he grabbed me again. By the throat."

Her larynx was bruised. That was what had convinced her to go to the hospital. Edward had to talk her into it, talk some sense into her as she was panicked and irrational, gasping for breath as she tried to talk to him. But as it turned out, the wound at her throat was relatively minor. She'd been breathless more because she was in a state of terror than because of any injury to her throat.

"I kept hitting him with the knife," Bella whispered.

"Stabbing him," the officer said.

"I… Yeah? I kept hitting him until he stumbled backward. I ran. I ran away from him. Out of the house."

There was so much blood. On her hands. On her clothes. On her steering wheel. She had the memory of it spreading in a bloom across Demetri's white dress shirt. She'd called 9-1-1 for Demetri and then had called Edward because she needed him. She'd needed him so much.

Officer Birdy had asked a few follow-up questions and then told her not to leave the state without telling them. "We'll be in touch."

Bella held her breath until he was out the door and his heavy footfalls had faded away. Then, she exhaled in a gust. Beside her, Edward did the same.

"Condescending prick. I fucking hate cops," he muttered under his breath.

In spite of herself, her still racing heart and her frayed nerves, Bella had to laugh. "My dad was a cop." Then, she sighed. "I called him. And my mom. When the nurse came and got you? She called my dad _and_ my mom." She shook her head. "I just wasn't thinking. I'm surprised he's not—"

"Isabella?"

Bella had to stifle a groan when she heard her father's voice.

~0~

Bella yawned, ducking her head against Edward's chest and snuggling in. She gave a contented sigh, more at peace than she should have been after everything that had happened. It had been a long night that had turned into a long morning. But, pressed against Edward's side, tucked under his arm, she felt truly safe. Her father had gone to pick up her mother from the airport. They were just waiting for a final look over from the doctor, and she would be released.

"Did my dad seem weird to you?" she asked, eyelids half mast as she struggled not to fall asleep. He was running his fingers so softly through her hair.

He snorted. "Your dad seems like a lot of things to me." He was quiet a beat, considering. "He did seem like he was on edge, but isn't that to be expected? You're his daughter."

"He was really nice today. To me, anyway. All this time, all I had to do to get a little positive attention was get my ass kicked." Her tone turned sardonic. "I was surprised, actually. I know I asked for him. I wanted… I don't know. I was scared. I wanted my Mommy and Daddy." She rolled her eyes. Apparently, her psyche still hadn't gotten used to the idea she would never have warm, fuzzy parents. "But when he actually showed up, I thought he was going to tell me I'd done something stupid to set Demetri off like this."

She felt Edward tense, but his tone was even when he spoke. "It was nothing you did. You know that, right? Nothing you did or said could justify this."

"I know. I just don't always trust him to know. When it comes to other people, sure, but not to me."

He was quiet a beat. "You know, no matter what I did—and you know I've done some terrible things—my parents always made excuses for me. It's annoying, but I don't think I appreciate it enough." She felt the tip of his nose against her hair. "It's a shitty thing—that your father's compassion was such a surprise."

She let out a long, slow breath. Her heart ached, but there was something healing about his vindication. Sometimes, she felt like an ungrateful child. Her father gave her so much, but all of it with a coldness, even a tinge of disgust. Maybe there had been a time when she deserved it, earned it. But not now. "He does love me," she whispered. "When I was little…" She shook her head. "I think he got busy when I was young—after he won the custody battle. I think his career took off and he blinked. He blinked, and I was someone different. Someone he didn't recognize or like.

"Maybe he's finally starting to get it, though. That I'm done. I'm raised. I'm the daughter he gets—no substitutions, exchanges, or refunds. These last few months have been better with him. I'm always pissed off because he never gives me the benefit of the doubt; maybe I should take my own advice."

Edward pressed a kiss to her temple. "It's okay to be careful with your heart, Bella. That goes for parents too. Maybe it goes for parents most."

Familiar voices approaching the door to her hospital room drew Bella's attention. She straightened up, a rush of excitement going through her at the sound of one voice.

"I sent you a text, Renee," her father's voice said, sounding irritated. "I said I'd pick you up."

"I always forget to turn my phone on after the plane lands," Renee said.

"That's irresponsible. You should—"

"Charlie." Renee sounded exasperated, and Bella had to smile. "What does it matter now? I'm here. You're here. It all worked out."

"There are things we need to speak about before—"

"We'll talk about it later. I want to see my—" Renee walked into the room and cut herself off as her eyes fell on Bella. "Oh, honey."

"Mom." Bella darted across the room and flung her arms around her mother's neck.

If asked to describe her relationship with her mother, Bella often said they were like old friends who had moved away from each other. Years could go by between visits, but when they were together, they had fun. They smiled. Renee was easy to talk to and warm in all the ways her father hadn't been for so long.

Bella wasn't always impressed with her as a mother. She'd been a much younger woman going up against an older, powerful man when she and Charlie fought for custody of Bella. And she had the type of personality that she hadn't been devastated when she lost. She fought the good fight and then went on to live her life. Though there had been times when Bella really could have used a mother, she'd always forgiven Renee for being who she was.

"Look at you." Renee held her at arms length, looking her up and down with a pinched expression. "That little bastard. That complete shit."

For some reason, her mother's fury made her laugh. Bella hugged her again. "I'm okay. I'm going to be okay." She pulled back and smiled. "You got here just on time. They're about to spring me."

"Good. I hate hospitals." Renee put a gentle arm around Bella's shoulders, giving her another squeeze. She leaned in and stage whispered, "Now, are you going to tell me who the hottie is or what?" She nodded her head at Edward.

Bella flushed and Edward laughed. He stepped forward and offered a hand. "Edward Cullen."

"Edward…" Renee's mouth dropped open. She'd had her hand out, but she didn't move when Edward took it. "Oh, my god."

"Mom? What?" Bella furrowed her brow.

Charlie let out a grunt of irritation and a sigh of what seemed suspiciously like resignation.

"Oh, my god," Renee said again. Her gape-mouthed expression turned into a wide grin. "It is you. Hey, you grew up right. Wow."

"Wait a minute. Do you know—"

But anything Bella would have said was cut off as the room was suddenly crowded with more people. Specifically, two cops, including the asshole Officer Birdy.

Two cops who informed Bella she was under arrest for attempted murder.

* * *

 **A/N: I know, I know.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I couldn't leave you guys hanging. Here we go!**

* * *

"Sir, get the hell out of our way, or I'm hauling you in too."

There wasn't a lot that could have gotten through to Edward in that moment. Bella was being hauled out the door, and the cops didn't seem to give a single damn about her broken wrist, her bumps and bruises, or the fact there was absolutely no way in hell this should be happening. The way she cried his name, her voice raw with shock and confusion, twisted his heart. He needed to stay with her.

The thought of being arrested, of handcuffs around his wrists, of his parents' inevitable look of disappointment as he destroyed his life yet again made him pause, if only for a moment. But it was long enough. The cops turned the corner and, before he could follow them again because this could absolutely not be happening, an iron hand clamped around his arm.

"Let them go," the senator said.

Edward wrenched his hand away. "Like hell. Why is this okay with you?"

He didn't wait to hear the answer. He took off down the hallway after the cops again.

Senator Swan was by his side in an instant, trying to restrain him. "This isn't okay, but do you think making a scene is going to make things better?"

"I'm going with her." Again, he shook the man off.

"Charlie—" Renee started to say, obviously having followed this strange parade.

The good senator was still intent on Edward. "Whatever's happening, it can be sorted out. Calmly. Edward. Hey. Stop. Stop. Calm down. Can't you see—"

"I'm calm. I'm going to calmly tell those assholes they're arresting the wrong fucking person." Edward pushed through the exit door—

And right out into a circus. He stopped short, blinking as he was blinded by flashing lights and the dull roar of a small crowd. Though the doors to the hospital were clear, he had completely missed all these people standing right outside. He blinked again, trying to process the words being shouted at him.

No. Not at him.

"Senator! Senator!"

"Did you know—"

"Did your daughter—"

"Is this—"

Still stunned, when the senator grabbed Edward's shoulder then, he allowed himself to be led. It took him a few moments to process they weren't going back inside. They were pushing through the little crowd.

"Senator, do you share your daughter's anti-gay views?"

Edward started to turn to figure out whoever had said that, but the senator yanked him hard. "Come on."

"Senator, why did your daughter try to murder her soulmate?"

"Soulmate?" This time it was Renee who spoke. Being some steps away from Charlie, she was able to swing around to face the reporter who'd lobbed that particular question. "Wait. You think that man, the man who hurt my daughter, was her soulmate?"

The reporter's eyes gleamed. "Your daughter? Does that mean you're—"

But Renee had already whirled on Charlie. "What did you do?"

He sighed.

The reporter stepped closer, angling himself so Renee had to look at him. "Does that mean you didn't know the man your daughter attacked yesterday is her soulmate?"

"He's not her soulmate," Renee said, her tone almost flippant as she continued to stare at her ex-husband.

The senator stepped away from Edward and reached for her. "Renee—"

"Charles Percival Swan, what the hell did you do?"

"Mrs. Swan?" the reporter tried again.

"I'm not Mrs. Swan. I haven't been for a long time." She turned away from Charlie, finally address the reporter. "And that man isn't my daughter's soulmate, which my ex-husband knows very well."

"Renee," the senator said through clenched teeth.

Renee pointed at Edward. "That man is my daughter's soulmate."

Edward blanched, a jolt running down his spine. He stared at Renee, frozen as all the gathered reporters turned toward him.

 _ **~0~**_

In all the chaos after Renee's announcement, Edward allowed himself to be yanked into a limo that pulled up. There, Renee—arms crossed in irritation at her ex— told Edward a story from his own past. She told him a story about a teenage boy and the startled bit of avian profanity he'd spoken to the months old child he'd nearly dropped.

It seemed impossible to him at first. Bella loomed so large on his horizon now that the idea he ever could have forgotten her, no matter the circumstance, seemed ludicrous. When they arrived at what had to be the senator's opulent home, Edward ignored the other two. He sat on a sofa with his head in his hands, tugging at his hair as he tried to put all the pieces together.

How could he have forgotten her?

But, rationally, it had been twenty years, and he'd been a troubled teenage boy. He had parents who both cared enough and had the means to do everything in their power to get him on the straight and narrow.

What it meant for him then was an endless line of people trying to fix him; counselors, group therapies, camps; people who tried to redirect him or scare him straight.

It had been five minutes more than two decades ago. Charles Swan had been just another adult who didn't trust him, and his fumbling a helpless infant had been just one more in a long line of fuck ups.

Then, when they'd met again so many years later, it hadn't escaped Edward's notice that she'd said his soulmate sentence. But then, so many people had. "Hey." He'd always known it would be nearly impossible to tell his soulmate from that one word. It was a standard greeting, a means of getting someone's attention, and a word occasionally shouted at him by a stranger he'd managed to piss off. He'd thought about the fact it was her first word to him but dismissed it as meaningless. And Bella… She wouldn't have remembered something that happened when she was so young.

And, given that she'd thought Demetri was the first one to say that phrase to her, her soulmate sentence, she had to have been deliberately misled all her life.

Edward raised his head, more thoughts clicking into place.

" _What did you do?_ " Renee had shouted at Charles. She had known who Edward was the minute she heard his name. She'd known Charles had something to do with why all of this was happening.

Charles who had been not-so-gently encouraging Bella to stay away from a romance with Edward because it could only end in disaster when her soulmate showed up. And then, low and behold, he had. At a party Charles had taken her to.

Edward stood up, jaw clenched. He began to pace the room, needing to expel the tumultuous, pent-up energy inside him. He tried not to look at the senator. Charles was on the other side of the room, his cell phone to his ear as he made calls to his lawyers and anyone else to find out what the hell was going on with Bella.

"Keep me updated," the senator said into the phone, his voice gruff. He tossed the phone on the chair beside him and pressed the heel of his palm between his eyes. "The lawyers are on it. They'll call us when they have her out, but that probably won't be until much later this afternoon. His people will try to get the judge to deny bail, but it won't work."

"Deny bail for what? Why is this happening?" Renee asked. "What are they accusing her of doing?"

He scoffed. "They're trying to get it classified as a hate crime."

That brought Edward up short. "What?"

The senator shook his head. "His team must have started spinning this. That's how the press knew before we did. That's why they were waiting on us. Of course. They'd want to control the narrative, and who gives a damn whose life they ruin."

"Charlie," Renee said sharply. "Start making sense."

He raised his head, looking for once like a tired, worried father. "She hit him. The day they met, she hit him. It was an accident, but they're trying to say it was because she knew that he was gay at that point. They're trying to establish a history of violence against him."

"That's ridiculous," Edward said. "How would she have known?"

"The biggest concern right now is precedence." He wiped a hand over his eyes. "Apparently, some of the members of that group of thugs she used to hang out with have been in this kind of trouble before. The company she keeps has always been spectacular."

The edge of sarcasm in his tone lit Edward's rapidly fraying fuse. "Right, because the company you chose for her was clearly so much better."

Charles narrowed his eyes, casting a baleful look in his direction, but Edward couldn't have stopped himself if he tried. "That's what happened, right? You set her up with that son of a bitch to get her away from me. You've been keeping her away from me her whole life."

"Of course I've been keeping her away from you," the senator snapped. "I'm her father. It's my job to protect her."

"Stellar work." Edward shook his head, clenching and unclenching his hands in fists by his side. "If she'd grown up knowing who I was—"

"It made sense then," Renee interrupted. She held her hands out toward him, palm up in a placating gesture, her expression apologetic. "I'm not going to pretend I know what the hell is going on now, but it did make sense originally."

"You thought I was a threat," Edward said.

"Of course you were a threat," Charles said. "You were a teenage boy."

"What does that mean? She was a baby. What the hell was I going to do with a baby? That's filthy."

"Don't be naïve." Charles folded his arms, glaring at him. "You know how these things have worked out. She would have grown up knowing you were destined, however you want to put it. She would have trusted you. Do you know how easy it would have been to groom her to be exactly what you wanted?"

Edward balked, revolted. "I never would have—"

"You being so much older, knowing that she was yours…" Renee shook her head, her smile gentle. "You might not have realized what you were doing. It would have changed how you looked at her, and having you in her orbit would have changed who she was. It just would have. That part isn't personal, Edward. And regardless of what would have happened, why would we take that kind of a chance with our daughter?"

Edward was quiet. He bit his tongue to keep from lashing out. He was used to people thinking the worst of him, but this? This was a whole other level of wrong.

But…

On principle, he could see their point. It was a creepy thought—a boy so much older than Bella knowing they were destined to be something. Looking at her with that potential in their future.

"Fine," he said, the word coming out as a grunt. "But I was long gone from her life by the time you should have come clean. Lying to her has been the source of all her problems. She never would have been with Jacob if she'd known she'd already met her soulmate."

Charles seemed taken aback by this. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't know?" Edward shook his head. That figured. He wasn't the sort of father a child would have felt comfortable confiding in. "He said a version of those words to her. That's what started them. And then this asshole. You want to talk to me about grooming? You must have fed Demetri those words. Her soulmate sentence. For what? Is this some warped version of an arranged marriage?"

"No." Charles's features tightening as he stared back at Edward.

"You're the only one here who's been trying to manipulate Bella into being who you think she should be. You pimped her out to this asshole."

The senator stood, stepping quickly to get in Edward's face. "That's not what happened. You're twisting things."

"Hey." Renee stepped between them both, her back to Edward, pushing Charles away. "Start talking, Charlie. If any of this is true—"

"Of course it's not. Who do you think I am?"

Renee folded her arms and stared at her ex-husband. "Start talking," she said again.

He huffed, but he sat. He scrubbed his face with both hands, and when he let them drop into his lap again, he started to speak. "You haven't been here through everything she's been through, Renee."

Edward scoffed, and dropped back onto the sofa. He wanted to retort that Charles had done a piss poor job of being there for Bella himself, but they were never going to get through this story if he didn't stop arguing.

Charles gave him a sour look but then turned back to talk to his ex-wife. "I'm just saying you didn't see it. You didn't see her. The choices she was making…the person she was becoming. I didn't know from day to day if she was going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere or…" He looked briefly to Edward and grimaced.

"In jail," Edward supplied.

"That's how most of her friends ended up." The senator rolled his shoulders and went on. "But she came back to me. She made it through all that. She started to turn her life around. And then…"

"Along came a spider." Appropriately, Edward couldn't seem to keep the venom out of his voice.

Charles cocked his head, some of his usual condescension coming back into his expression as he sat up straight. "I don't think you get to take that tone with me, you snide son of a bitch. You couldn't have been what…more than two days out of prison when you met Bella."

Edward pressed his mouth into a thin line. Two hours. He'd been two hours out of prison when he met Bella. "I don't know what that has to do with anything."

"Oh, you don't? You have no idea what it looks like? A man like you. Your age, with no real prospects. A liar and a thief. Bella's a woman of some means and still young enough to be impressionable."

"That's not even close to what happened," Edward said through clenched teeth.

Charles spread his hands out, fingers wide. "Whatever you say."

Before Edward could argue at that, they were both interrupted by a wry laugh. Edward turned to find Renee starting at her ex-husband, shaking her head. "You didn't approve and so you did what you always do, didn't you Charlie?" When the senator furrowed his brow, she smiled without warmth. "You tried to control the situation."

For a moment, it looked like the senator was going to argue. Then, he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, keeping them fixed there a few beats. "It was redirection. Nothing was supposed to come of it. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. I knew Bella would be distracted by the possibility he was a soulmate, and I knew Demetri had no romantic interests." He rubbed the back of his neck looking briefly self-conscious. "I didn't know the details why—just that there was a lot of talk."

"And what did he get out of it?" Edward asked through clenched teeth.

"Progressive Republican is a difficult line to walk. It was beneficial for him to look, if only on a shallow surface, bipartisan." The senator shrugged. "It wasn't meant to last, and I never thought…" He swallowed hard. "If I'd thought he was capable of this…"

And Edward was done. Done with calm and done with pleasantries. "If you'd thought he was capable of this, you would have what? Found someone else to help you manipulate your daughter's life? You think you're so different from Demetri? Bella threatened his narrative, didn't play by the script the two of you set out for her without telling her about it, and she almost died for it. You only want her contained—fit into a little box because you're tired of being embarrassed. She's a liability, isn't she, senator? Something to be handled."

He pulled on his jacket, searching the pocket to find the keys to his bike. He didn't know how the hell he was going to get back to the hospital, but he needed to be away from these people. "The funny thing is, you think I'm the dangerous one."

He laughed without humor and slammed the door behind him when he left.

 **~0~**

But at the end of the day, nothing else mattered but this.

Edward tapped his foot, impatient. His skin crawled as he stared at the door that led to the cells. This whole place gave him the heebie-jeebies, and he couldn't stand that Bella had been here even a moment. He couldn't stand the things he knew about what she'd been through—being processed into the system. He hated that she'd been alone and scared.

But none of that mattered now.

The door finally opened, and all that mattered was he was there for her. He opened his arms and she flew into them, clinging to him, letting him rock her gently while she shook. He kissed the top of her head and told her everything would be all right.

He was hers. Heart and soul. He belonged to her, and no one was ever going to get in the way of that again.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay. Now that we're on somewhat stable ground… I'm going to try to update my other stories lol.**

 **Thanks for all your patience and support. And thanks to my Facebook group for always helping me out with the little details. Come join us there! You even get some additional content. We have fun.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: December passed like nothing. January has been...well...kind of terrible.**

 **Thanks for being patient.**

* * *

"Get me out of here. Please." Bella's voice was a thin, reedy thing, and she hated it. She wanted to stand up tall and walk out of jail like a woman who had no reason to be ashamed. But it had taken all of her strength to get through the ordeal in the first place. It had taken everything in her to control the shaking, the urge to weep. She was so scared and confused and desperate to cling to the shelter of Edward's arms.

Even the thought of letting go of him long enough to walk to the car—his bike?—seemed like more than she could bear, but she needed to be far away from this awful place more than she needed to breathe. Talk about scared straight. If she got out of this, she'd probably never so much as jaywalk again.

Edward ran a comforting hand up and down her back. She heard him swallow hard. "There's something I have to tell you first."

She clutched his jacket in her fists. "It doesn't matter right now. We can talk about anything later."

"There are a few reporters outside—"

"I don't…" She closed her eyes tightly, overwhelmed at the idea of facing those assholes with their intrusive, jarring questions. She took a steadying breath. "I can handle them." He must have thought she was too fragile. She made an effort to shake off her cowardice and stand up straighter. "I'm okay."

He pushed her hair back and cupped her cheek. "I know you can handle it." His thumb stroked along her jaw. "There's just something I want you to hear from me. No one else."

His words caught and focused her attention. She looked into his eyes. "He's not… Demetri isn't dead, is he?" Surely someone, her lawyer, somebody, would have told her.

"What? Oh, no. It's not about him. Well." He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "I guess it is. A little." He took her hands and squeezed tightly. "He's not your soulmate, Bella. It's…" He laughed. "Christ, this is awkward. He's just… he's not your soulmate."

She eyed him. "Are you trying to tell me how to spin this?" As a politician's child, Bella understood the value of spin. The truth was subjective. That was how Demetri had gotten her locked up in the first place, spinning the attack his way.

But Bella hated to think about Edward getting caught up in the world of necessary evils. "Have you been hanging out with my dad?"

He huffed, a dark expression crossing his features. "Yeah, he and I have had words. But not about spin. This is about truth. The whole truth." His look gentled and he bent his head closer to her, speaking quietly. "Demetri knew your soulmate sentence before you met. He made sure they were the first words he said to you." He looked into her eyes. "You were set up, Bella. Set up to believe he was the one."

Bella blinked. "Wait. What?" Her brain whirred like a machine coming to an abrupt stop, all thoughts suspended.

"The truth is... You and I?" He squeezed her hands. "We've met before. That day in the hospital? Those words weren't the first words I spoke to you."

Bella turned the key in her mind but got nothing but clicking noise. "What?" she asked again. Had he changed the subject? And why?

"You were a baby when we first met. You wouldn't remember. I wish I'd remembered." He paused, and she could see the tense set of his jaw. "Your father remembered me. And he remembered the first thing I said to you." His eyes held hers. "I said it first, Bella. Your soulmate sentence. It was the first thing I said to you."

Despite the noise in the busy jail, Bella swore the only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat, loud and insistent between her ears. "What?" she whispered as though that one word had become her whole language.

"Your father lied. He lied by omission. He let you... He let us believe there was someone else out there for you. He fed Demetri those words and set you up. Not for this. Not to be blamed for this bullshit, but he wanted you to think Demetri was your soulmate."

Trembling, Bella dropped Edward's hand and took a small step backward.

"Bella." He held a hand out but didn't touch her, and she was grateful.

"I'm..." She didn't actually know what she was. Not okay. But it was a miracle she could remember any words at all. Her thoughts raced, questions and realizations occurring at a rapid-fire pace, zinging off her skull with almost audible pings. "Can we leave?" she asked quietly.

He only paused a beat, studying her intently, before he nodded. "Of course."

She let him tuck her against his side. There were only a handful of reporters outside, but they could be depended on not to understand the concept of personal space. She would much rather be in Edward's orbit than theirs. He led the way to a car. Bella got in, buckled up, and pulled her legs up onto the seat, hiding her face against her knees. With the rest of the world outside the tiny bubble she'd created for herself, she tried to think.

It was just a lot. Too much.

How many months had passed while she wondered what was wrong with her? Months of looking at Demetri, trying to feel something. Anything. That was expected. The norm. There was a lot to be said on the subject of soulmates-good, bad, and ugly-but what everyone agreed on was the strength of the emotion involved. It was always too big to ignore no matter the circumstance. That was what made it so destructive for some. It was always life-altering. That was the whole reason she hadn't let herself get wrapped up in Edward. The drama of her soulmate loomed somewhere in her future, and her present was precarious.

But when she'd looked at Demetri she'd felt frighteningly little. Not even friendship. She'd been so confused for so long.

Then, this attack. The arrest. The accusation that she'd hated someone enough she'd tried to murder him. The whole situation had left her frightened and bewildered. Of course she'd known there were people who could destroy someone's life without a second glance, but it had never happened to her. She'd felt nothing toward Demetri. Apathy. She never could have dreamt him capable of what he was trying to do to her.

And now this.

Was Edward trying to tell her that none of it had to happen? Her soulmate had made himself known when she was a baby? That meant even Jacob wouldn't have happened. Her son wouldn't have happened. None of it. None of this. Her life. What would her life have been if she'd always known Edward was her soulmate?

Edward was her soulmate.

And her father had known.

Her father didn't like her. She knew that. She'd accepted that. But the idea he'd actively hurt her like this...

"Can you stop the car?" The words came out in a tumble, too sharp around the edges. "Please."

"Yeah, of course. Hold on. Just hold on," Edward said too-quickly, his tone soothing. As though he was afraid she'd explode if he didn't move fast enough.

It was a possibility. Her mood changed by the moment. Her heart beat too fast, and her blood seemed to itch under her skin. She needed to move.

As soon as Edward pulled into a Target parking lot, she burst into motion. She was out of the car and around to his side so fast he seemed startled to see her. She didn't stop to think about it. She pushed him back before he could get out of the car and got in with him, settling on his lap facing him. It was cramped. Awkward. The steering wheel dug into her back, but she didn't care.

"You're mine?" she asked, cupping his face. There was so much she wanted to ask, to know, but this?

Yeah. This was important.

He blinked and then let out a breath in a whoosh, his lips turning up at the corners just a little. He brought his hands up to cover hers on his cheeks. "I thought you were mad at me."

"No." This came out tender, gentle. "No, of course not. Not you." She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You're mine?"

His hands drew down her shoulders and around to rub her back. "Yeah, baby. I'm yours." He took her hands and pressed them to his chest. "You already knew you had my heart. Now you have everything else."

Elation overpowered all the other emotions vying for attentio. Her lips turned up. Wide. Wider. A grin full of teeth. Giddiness welled in her and she giggled, overcome with the force of it. She might have felt ridiculous, giggling like a schoolgirl, but his grin was just as wide, his eyes bright as he looked back at her.

 _Edward Cullen is my soulmate._

Thinking of Demetri as her soulmate had been trying to fit into clothing many sizes too big and not her style at all. Edward, though… He fit like a glove. The knowledge of him, that he was hers and she was his, settled into her being with a snug snick.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly, already breathless. She kissed him again and again, laughing in between. He chuckled back, his hands warm as he pressed her close.

Gradually, they slowed, breathless kisses giving away to deeper, longer ones. There was a slow rhythm to the way they moved. Their hips rolled—waves tumbling onto the beach. His hands cupped her ass and her fingers tangled in his hair.

A sharp rap on the window sent them flying apart. They jumped again at the sound of the car's horn, and Bella winced. Damn steering wheel.

"The hell is wrong with you two?" an irate man with a toddler on his hip demanded. He shook his head, disgusted, and stormed off, the toddler waving at them over his shoulder.

Edward and Bella looked at each other. Bella presses her lips together but it was no use. She started laughing. He did too, and tilted his head to rest his forehead against hers.

"We should get out of here before we get arrested for public indecency," Bella muttered. That sobered her somewhat. It would be the story of her life to get marched right back to jail less than an hour after she left.

Edward pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Plenty of time for us."

She shuddered, closing her eyes briefly. With a charge of attempted murder hanging over her…

"Hey." Edward squeezed her, rubbing her back. "It's going to be okay."

"Yeah." She held onto him for another moment. "Sure."

She got out of the car reluctantly and made her way back to the passenger seat. She was more centered now, grounded. The thoughts singing around her head came in a more cohesive jumble. She even had room for a few more.

"What the hell car is this?" she asked, brows furrowed as it occurred to her that Edward didn't have a car.

Edward scoffed. "Your dad's." He rolled his eyes as he started the car. "We argued about… Well, everything. He wanted to come get you, but I told him he could fuck the hell off." His voice was rough, and he shook his head. "He said the least I could do was not put you on my death machine."

"Then we should really pull over somewhere private and have sex in the backseat."

Edward choked and sputtered, doing a double take as he looked in her direction. He laughed,a highly pitched sound, and he shook his head as the light they were stopped at turned green.

~0~

Bella took a deep breath as the gate that protected her father's opulent home rolled back. One hell to the next, she supposed. It couldn't be overstated how much she didn't want to be here.

Her father's lawyers would be here in half an hour.

Bella worked her jaw, wondering if she hated the jail or this house more. "Why am I still so scared of him?"

"Habit. Muscle memory."

"I'm in trouble again...but it's his fault this time." Bella huffed. "I don't even know what to say to him. I don't know what I can say. If I tell himself he can go to hell, will he still pay for my lawyers? Fuck." She rubbed the heel of her palm into her eye. "I hate that I need him."

"You deserve to be angry." Edward's fingers traced a gentle pattern against her neck. "I'm with you. You don't ever have to face him alone again if you don't want to. I have your back."

With his words, some of the tension in her shoulders eased. A sense of well-being settled in her, smoothing out some of her more ragged edges. He was good for her. She'd never understood the meaning of that phrase until right then.

She tilted her head up, inviting. His lips twitched at the corner, his eyes somehow both tender and just a little wicked. He pressed his lips just briefly to hers, teasing. She laughed under her breath, cupped the back of his neck and brought him down to her.

It was a slow, serious kind of kiss. They had half an hour, after all. They'd been cheated out of the sweet bliss of brand new romance not once but twice now. Never any time to revel in what they felt for each other. She reveled now in the taste of him, the feel of his stubbled chin on the sensitive skin of her palms, the delicious sound of the little noises he made.

The console between them quickly became too much. She needed more of him. She wanted to be on his lap again. Maybe she would pull him into the backseat with her.

She turned to the car door to do just that and screamed.

Her father was standing not five feet away, glowering with disapproval. He shook his head. "I see what's most important to you even in times of crisis." With another shake of his head, he turned and went into the house.

Bella bit her lip, shame washing over her. Why was she forever stepping in it?

Stepping in what? A voice whispered in her ear. What, exactly, had she been doing that was so wrong? Kissing her boyfriend? Basking in the adoration be showered her with? Feeling good, wanted, loved if only for a few minutes?

Kissing her soulmate.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to keep her cool.

Failing.

She got out of the car and was up the steps to the front door before poor Edward could react. She heard him call her name but didn't stop. She powered through the door and caught up with her father in the front entryway.

"You don't get to look down on me anymore," she said to his back.

Her father gave a long-suffering sigh as he turned around. "This whole situation is dramatic enough. If we could do this without theatrics, that would be preferable."

Bella heard Edward's footfalls and then the warmth of him in her personal space. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she put a hand on his. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she stared her father down. "No."

"Excuse me?" he said.

"I said no. You don't get to do this. I didn't fuck up this time, Dad. You did. You don't get to make me feel like the tantruming kid because I'm pissed off. Theatrics? Your god damned theatrics almost got me killed. They may still get me tossed in jail for the rest of my life." She scoffed. "Maybe that's what you want. It'd be a relief not to have to deal with me anymore, right?"

Her father's stern face fell, and for once, he looked like a human being, a normal father. "No. That's not… That's not what I want. You're my daughter. How could you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, Charlie."

Bella turned her head at the sound of her mother's voice. Renee gave her a sad smile and reached out to take her hand. She turned back to her ex-husband. "I know you better than your daughter does. He does love you, sweetheart." Renee squeezed her hand. "It's just that he thinks love means fixing the world to look exactly how he thinks it should be. It's why he did what he did to me too."

"Renee." Charlie sounded tired. His wife, Sue, had come to stand beside him.

Renee chuckled. She stroked Bella's cheek lovingly. "Your father is good at making sense. And if he thinks you don't, he's good at making you feel foolish." She sighed. "I owe you so many apologies, sweetheart."

Bella cocked her head, confused at the turn in the conversation. "Mom?"

"When you were a child, when we were fighting for you…" Renee shook her head. "It's not like I didn't understand what he was saying. I was young. I'd literally run off with a man I'd met five days before." She laughed, the sound sad. "I destroyed our little family. So I got it. Of course he thought I wasn't good for you, that I'd only hurt you again. So he fought as hard as he could to make sure I had as little access to you as possible. And, of course, he had the money to do it very, very well."

"Renee," Charlie said, sounding gruff now, but Renee wasn't done.

"It's not an excuse, Bella. I shouldn't have given up. I shouldn't have thought he might be right, that he could give you everything you needed. I'm sorry for so many things."

Her eyes had gone glassy. She stroked Bella's cheek and sniffed hard. "I should have been here all along. When your son died…"

Bella shuddered, pulling back and meeting the comfort of Edward's chest. He put a hand to her waist, holding her. "You didn't... I was okay,"she whispered.

"That's what you always said. You were doing okay. I thought your father was right. You didn't need me even then, but I was wrong. I shouldn't have believed either of you. Of course you weren't okay."

"Mom," Bella said, but she was at a loss what she was supposed to say next.

"Don't worry. I'm trying to say, I got this one." She patted Bella's cheek in a strangely...well...motherly way. Then, she turned to her ex-husband with her hands on her hips and a none-too pleased expression on her face.

"You know what your problem is, Charlie? You have this picture about what life's supposed to look like so stuck in your head, you forget to just live your life. Good or bad, you have to live with all of it.

"You were allowed to make mistakes with your life. Like me. You and I were a mistake. I was too young for you. Too different. But you know the difference between you and me? I don't regret you."

Charlie studied her with furrowed brow, and Renee rolled her eyes. "Well, you were a big bag of dicks about the whole custody thing."

Bella choked on a laugh and she felt Edward's chest rise and fall in a chortle.

"But regret?" Renee shrugged. "You were a life lesson. You were what I needed, coming out of the life I had when I was a kid. And you needed me too. You needed some lightness with all the dark you brought on yourself. Besides all that, we got a beautiful daughter out of what we were.

"The point is, we learn from our mistakes. They make us who we are. I understand what you were thinking when Edward came back into Bella's life. An ex-con. And she's still so young. I see what you saw."

Bella bristled. Behind her, Edward let out a soft huff. She could almost feel his shoulders slump.

"But if he's a mistake? He's Bella's to make. Her life, Charlie. Your job is to be there for her, not to control her."

"I'm not—" Charlie started, but Renee shook her head.

"Shut up. I'm the adult right now, because you fucked up."

Charlie glanced at Sue who arched an eyebrow right back.

"I can see the lawyers just got here," Renee said, nodding toward the front of the house. "You have just enough time to apologize to your kid, tell her you're going to get her out of this, and get it through your head now she doesn't have to forgive you."

The silence that fell over the house was thick. They all jumped when the doorbell sounded. Her father started to turn toward the sound but Renee grabbed him by the arm, turning him back.

Charlie grimaced. He stepped forward, reaching for Bella. She stepped backward, further into Edward's sheltering embrace and Charlie nodded. "I am sorry, Bella. I never expected it to end up like this."

Bella stared back at her father, stone-faced. He didn't get it. How he'd expected things to end up wasn't acceptable either.

Renee rolled her eyes. "Okay. That sucked, but we don't have time." She pointed at the door. Let's do this."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks again, my duckies. See you soon.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: As always, thanks so much for your patience. People used to tell me it would take a few years to feel like myself again after having a baby. My problem (and I use the word problem loosely as I'm obnoxiously happy these days) is I still know who I am. The writer in me is going nuts! So many words and so little time. And just because I can't sit down and finish the stories I have going doesn't mean new ones haven't occurred to me. They're all in there, bashing into each other. BAH.**

 **But anyway. Onward.**

* * *

Edward hated lawyers.

No. He supposed that was unfair. Lawyers had kept his idotic ass out of prison as long as they could. When he, against their advice, pled guilty to his latest offense, they'd kept his sentence to a minimum. Charles Swan, like his parents, could afford the best. He trusted his team of pit vipers to keep Bella out of trouble in the long run.

It was the process he hated. His skin crawled with the memory of being the one where Bella was now—seated at the table, facing three grand inquisitors with her parents hovering nearby. It was different, of course. Bella hadn't done a damn thing to deserve being in the hot seat. For Edward, it had always meant owning up to every damn, dumbass thing he'd done and trying to explain it.

Explaining himself never worked. He hadn't understood until much later why he did the things he did. Lawyers—even his own—had a habit of making him feel small.

The fact Bella was innocent made him even angrier that she had to go through this. Lawyers were just never going to be pleasant people when you were the one being questioned. Their questions, all the things they thought they had to know, were always infuriating, embarrassing and way too personal.

"Did you have any sexual contact with Mr. Demetri Fontaine in the time you knew him?" Victoria Hunter, the head of Bella's legal team, asked.

Edward, sitting on Bella's right, squeezed her knee in support. She was hunched over her father's dining room table, her head in her hands. "No," she answered.

"Did you ever try to initiate sexual contact?"

"No."

"Did you come on to him? Act provocatively? Flirt? Pressure him at all?"

"No!" Bella raised her head and glared across the table.

Edward clenched his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check. Bella didn't need to calm him down on top of dealing with this bullshit. In his rational mind, he understood the lawyers knew what they were doing. They had the dual job of establishing a good defense and uncovering any detail the prosecution might bring up. They would ask several variations of the same question because cases were won and lost in nuance.

"Did you have sexual or other intimate contact with anyone other than Mr. Fontaine in the time you knew him?" James Damon, another member of the legal team, asked.

Bella sighed and closed her eyes. "No."

"Not even with Mr. Cullen?"

"No." This time it was Edward who answered, his eyes narrowed.

James looked at him with a cool expression. "And prior to meeting Mr. Fontaine?" he asked pointedly.

Edward stood up turning his back to the table. He walked a few steps away. What he had with Bella was the purest, most beautiful thing in his life. He didn't want any of them to sully it, to even know about it.

"They're trying to help," Renee said gently from where she sat on Bella's other side, offering the maternal support for once in her daughter's life.

"You don't have to be here," the senator said.

Edward swung around to stare him down. The senator stood against the wall on the other side of the room, the lawyer's side, his arms crossed. Edward squared his shoulders. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He sat back down in his seat, knowing how much it irritated the other man. Charles thought he belonged to Bella's right, that he deserved to be the one to sit with her and comfort her through this ordeal. It bothered him to no end that his daughter preferred Edward.

He could stew in it, Edward thought and out a gentle hand to Bella's back.

"Actually, Mr. Cullen is on our interview list," the third and final member of the team, Laurent Boucher, said, addressing Charles. "Though we can always speak to him separately if you prefer."

" _I_ don't prefer." Bella straightened in her chair. She lifted her chin and addressed Mr. Damon, answering his question. "We had a few intimate moments before." Her cheeks flamed, but her voice was steady, unashamed. "We decided on our own"—she glanced at her father—"not to pursue a relationship. I saw Edward many times after I met Mr. Fontaine, but as friends only."

The questioning went on for hours. The senator had an Italian feast delivered. Edward didn't miss that he'd ordered all of Bella's favorites. She picked apart a breadstick, but the majority of the food went cold as the night wore on.

By ten, Edward was considering putting his foot down. He doubted anyone had gotten any sleep the night before, least of all Bella. She looked exhausted and yet so determined to be grown-up, it broke his heart. The urge to gather her in his arms and carry her away from all this was getting to be too hard to ignore.

"Allright." For the first time, Ms. Hunter's expression gentled. "We have more than enough to get started. We'll go over everything and regroup with you tomorrow. Now, you should get some rest." She actually smiled at Bella. "Try not to worry. You have a strong case. Mr. Fontaine's claim makes little to no sense against much of the physical evidence. And with your father's evidence, this might not even make it to trial."

"My father's evidence?" Bella looked over to the senator.

The man's mustache twitched. "A full confession about my part in Demetri's deception. The proof to back up my story."

"You left a paper trail?" Bella raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not." Charles waved a hand. "The timeline of events can be proved, though. There are pictures of us in conversation at the event I spoke to him about you."

"The police foolishly made their arrest after being pressured by Fontaine's people," Mr. Damon said. "Based on superficial evidence of precedence. The fact you used to associate with people who went on to perpetuate crimes against gay persons is irrelevant. Your version of events of the assault on Mr. Fontaine the day you met is the only one that makes sense. Punching a man you just met because you suspected he was gay when he'd done everything in his power to appear straight doesn't quite add up."

"Mr. Fontaine has defense wounds on his hands and arms—an indication he'd been attacked," Mr. Boucher said, sweeping another stack of papers into his briefcase. "But the fingernail scraping they collected from your admittance to the hospital also shows how he got those scratch wounds on his arms. That coupled with the fact he was the one who placed so many phone calls to you that evening corroborates your version of events."

"He'll be the one in jail by the end of the week," Ms. Hunter said and smiled again.

As soon as the three were out of the room, the senator with them to show them out, Bella let out a huge breath and slumped over, resting her head against Edward's shoulder. He rubbed her back, squeezing her tightly.

"Jane, get me off this crazy thing," she whispered to him.

"The Jetsons? When the hell did you watch The Jetsons?"

She snorted, the air of her breath tickling his neck. "The what? It's from this old movie, _So I Married an Axe Murderer._ "

"Old." Edward chuckled. "Come on. I'll get you out of here." He stood, bringing her up with him.

"I really think everything is going to be okay, sweetheart." Renee brought Bella into a hug as Edward collected their things. "And I'm here, okay? I know it's late, but I'm here now. Whatever you need."

"I get it, you know?" Bella clung to her mother. "I really do."

Renee pulled back and brushed Bella's hair out of her face. She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry that you had to get it." She kissed her forehead. "But we have time for all that. Later."

Edward offered his hand to Bella. She took it and, together, they headed for the door. Edward had to pull up short to avoid running right into Charles, who was headed back to the dining room with his usual, purposeful stride.

"Where are you going?" the senator demanded.

"Away," Bella said, releasing Edward's hand so she could wrap an arm around his waist, pressing against his side.

"Bella—"

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Dad."

"Isabella, listen—"

"No. God, can you not respect me and what I want even now? I don't have the energy for you. I'm tired. I want to go home."

"That's what I want to talk to you about." The senator raised his voice the slightest bit as Edward and Bella kept walking toward the door. "You can't go home."

Edward clenched his jaw and slowed just the slightest bit, determined to let Bella play this however she needed to.

She did stop, but she didn't turn. The senator sighed, the sound quiet. He cleared his throat. "There are reporters near your apartment. It's turned into quite a story."

Bella faced her father. "Yeah, they must be giddy. A homophobic Republican politican who turns out to be gay? Eh, been there, done that. A 'guess who actually attempted to murder who' story? Well, that's a plot twist. Finding out the distinguished democratic senator fed his daughter to the wolves on purpose? Wow. That's a fucking soap opera."

"Isabella," he chastised.

"I don't want to talk to you," she repeated. "Don't push me. I'm tired and I don't have anything nice to say to you right now."

"Talking to the press before you've talked with my PR guy isn't a good idea. "

Edward's temper flared, but before he could snap at the man, Bella swung around. "Really? That's what you're worried about right now? I should have known. I guess I should appreciate that you let me talk to the lawyers first before we could move on to what you think is the most important thing—your image. You don't care what I want. You just want to make sure I got my story straight for the press. I'm sure your image took a hit. It's time to go into damage control mode now, right?."

"That's not—" Charles pressed a palm to the center of his forehead, rubbing hard. "This situation doesn't need your dramatics."

"This situation wouldn't exist if not for _your,_ goddamn dramatics. You're the biggest drama queen I know. You act like everything would fall apart if you weren't there to manipulate everyone into doing what you think is right. You've always made yourself into the ultimate victim. If only you had a better wife, a better daughter. If only Edward had stayed away. It's all melodramatic bullshit.

"And for what? You're so fucking oblivious to everything you've destroyed. My mother hurt you. My mother was flighty and erratic. Flighty, erratic, hurtful people don't make the best mothers. That's what you decided. And guess what? You were right to a point. Having a mother like her would have left its own mark, but what you never get is 'not perfect' isn't the same as bad. So I would have had a harebrained, slightly irresponsible mother. So the fuck what? I survived with a sanctimonious, judgmental father."

Both Renee and the senator's wife had come out into the entryway. They were, like him, quiet. Even Sue seemed to agree Bella deserved her words.

"You tried to keep me away from Leah's wedding because you thought I'd make a scene. It was destroyed anyway, because life is damned messy with or without your manipulations. And good things happen when you just let it be. Leah and I are starting to be friends because I went. I don't think you realize that. We text. We might actually be family one day even though you gave up on that whole plan when you realized I'd never be as good a daughter as your stepkids."

"Bella, I never—"

"And this? Whatever the hell you thought was going to happen? I could have died. I still could go to prison." Her voice broke. "Prison, Dad. For...ever."

Edward tightened his grip on her. "That's not going to happen," he and the senator said in tandem. Edward had to try hard not to return the other man's withering glare.

"Oh, god. Would you stop?" Bella sounded disgusted. "Are you fucking twelve? Stop glaring at my boyfriend."

Edward had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from snickering.

"Whatever the hell you were worried about, Edward never did anything to you and your precious image," Bella said. "You did that all by yourself. You built your career on giving reformed criminals a second chance and then you act like Edward isn't worth the dirt on your shoes. In case you still think you're better than him, he's never hurt me."

"I'm a dumbass, not an asshole." Edward didn't hold back his smirk. It had been a Herculean effort not to punch the man, especially these last few days. He couldn't help but find a little satisfaction at the fact Charles looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

The senator's wife stepped forward, her hands out. "It's your image we're concerned about. That's why we wanted you to speak to the PR person. For you. I think all your father was trying to say was you won't find peace at your apartment. You're always welcome to stay with us."

"It's a big house," Charles said, toneless. "You don't have to see me. Anyone. You don't have to talk. It's safe here."

Bella huffed and looked down at her feet a beat before looking up at her father and stepmother. "Thanks, but no thanks. This house has never been a safe space for me."

There was so much pain in the silence that fell between them at those words. Edward rubbed Bella's back with a soft touch. "You can come home with me."

"You think the reporters don't know where you are?" Charles asked, but there was no bark to his words. He looked and sounded like a man defeated.

"We'll go to my parents," Edward said, searching Bella's eyes for a reaction. "Private drive. We can camp out in my old room as long as we need."

Relief flitted across her face, and she nodded. "Yeah. That would be great." She took his hand. "Let's go."

They drove in silence, hands clasped over the shifter. Edward rubbed a thumb over her knuckles when he could.

"I wish your parents were my parents." Bella spoke so softly Edward wasn't sure if he'd heard her right.

When he processed the words, he had to laugh. "You think what this whole dramatic interlude needs is overtones of incest?"

"I said I want your parents, not that I want to be your sister, dumbass." She snickered and then sighed. "Just… I don't even have to ask if you're sure they won't mind us crashing their night. I feel like if your mom knew I was sad, she'd make me soup or something."

"Carlisle makes the soup. Lentil is my favorite." A smile tugged at Edward's lips. "When I was a sullen, angry teenager, Esme would make me help her make bread. She loves making fancy breads. She'd talk and talk. I was so annoyed. It made for aggressively kneaded dough."

"That's good for bread."

"Exactly. And afterward, there was bread. Delicious bread that I made." He shook his head, turning onto the street where his parents lived. "I thought about becoming a baker. I probably should have. It helped… having something to do with my hands. It's methodical. Chemistry. But, of course, I had to prove myself… whatever the hell that was supposed to mean."

He tapped the steering wheel, considering the house he's grown up in as he pulled the car into the long drive. This house he'd never felt truly part of. "My parents are good with strays," he mused. "They offered it all to me on a platter—everything a good parent should be. They tried so hard to reach me on my level. I never could accept what they wanted to give me. I still find it hard."

If life was fair at all, they should have swapped, he considered as they got out of the car. She deserved parents like his, and his parents deserved to have a child like her.

Edward took Bella's hand, leading her into the house. It was quiet, mostly dark, but there was a light on in the entryway. The light from the kitchen was on too. "What are we…" Bella began as he headed in that direction, but as they came to the doorway, she exhaled with a gust. "Oh."

On the table was a small spread—meats, cheese, and other fixings for simple sandwiches. A plate piled high with cookies. And a metal carafe surrounded by sugar, honey, and an assortment of tea bags.

"You've belonged to my family since Alice brought you home," Edward said, ducking his head against her ear. "They'll be what you need if you let them."

Bella exhaled a shaky breath, her eyes glassy, and Edward guided her into the room.

Though the kitchen table was plenty roomy, they sat next to each other, knees touching. They sipped but didn't speak, and Edward hoped the tea was doing its job. There was something timeless and comforting about a cup of tea. Senator Swan's house was cold not in temperature but in atmosphere. The ice of desolation, loneliness, wrongness. Tea had the effect of warming cold, wounded hearts, and this house was full of love.

Edward had never felt like he belonged here, but Bella did. And if he belonged to her, maybe he could finally belong to this family too.

Bella only made it through a third of her sandwich before she stopped eating. She stared off, not really looking at anything as she sighed.

She'd run out. After everything she'd been through, she'd finally run out of energy. She didn't have to tell him. He knew that kind of weariness—when it was too much effort even to lift food to his lips.

He stood and stooped, pulling her into his arms. She turned her face into his neck. "Edward," she whispered against his skin, as though she might argue.

"Shhh," he soothed, and she didn't protest again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes closed as he carried her up the stairs.

He set her on his bed. The walk had restored some small bit of energy in her. She used the toe of one foot to push her shoe down and wiggled her foot until it flew part way across the room. Edward watched her, bemused by the way she bit her bottom lip in concentration, determined to conquer her stubborn shoe.

What a gift it was, what an absolute pleasure, to know there was every chance he'd have years and the rest of his life to learn each of her little quirks.

They both shed what they needed for comfort and climbed under the blankets. He gathered her into his arms.

This, some voice whispered. Them.

They were that moment when seemingly random lines became a clear, perfect picture on an artist's canvas.

They were the perfect lyrics and music that flowed like blood through his veins.

The fact that he was meant for her and she for him was the first thing in his entire life that had eve rung absolutely true.

They'd deal with everything else as they were meant to. Together.

* * *

 **A/N: Send good writing vibes!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: As always, thank you for your patience. It's been a tough time for all of us. I hope you're all doing well. Thanks for not forgetting about me!**

* * *

Bella was in that wonderful space between waking and dreaming—awareness but no concrete thought. Her back was cold somehow. She registered the sound of footfalls on carpet and the feel of the bed dipping.

"You left." Her voice came out rough as sandpaper against wood.

Edward folded himself around her, his chest against her back and his arm around her waist. His nose nuzzled at her ear. "Didn't think you'd appreciate it if I wet the bed."

She hummed and sighed, reveling in the delicious tickle of his touch. "That's not a kink of mine."

He brushed her hair to the side and kissed along her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Good question." She reached down to where his hand stroked her belly. She didn't really know how she felt. She couldn't quite grasp how yesterday had been both dream and nightmare.

It also hadn't escaped her notice he was holding himself at an odd angle. She was tucked against him, but his hips were pushed back away from her.

"I know how I want to feel," she said, pushing back so her ass pressed him where he was hard. He hissed, his hand gripped tightly at her waist. "I know what I want to feel."

Maybe most people, when having sex with a person they knew to be their soulmate for the first time, would have wanted the cliche: missionary, eyes locked, noses brushing, hips moving as though to beautiful music.

It wasn't what Bella wanted.

Before she could find the words to articulate her desires, Edward began to trail kisses along her shoulder. She had wiggled out of most of her clothes before they climbed into bed, so there was only her shirt to help her out of.

Then, he pushed her onto her belly, and Bella whimpered. It was a noise of eagerness, anticipation, but mostly, it was the sound of relief. He always knew. Was it part of the soulmate thing? That he just knew what she needed?

Maybe he just didn't want to deal with her morning breath.

She chortled, burying the sound in the pillow.

"You think this is funny?" Edward asked, the heat of his body pressing over but not quite down on her. His lips brushed her ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in her blood.

She shook her head vehemently, though the lightness to his tone told her he hadn't taken offense. And if he was looking for an explanation, he wouldn't have used his knees to part her legs the way he did then. Thought faded away replaced by the experience of his touch, his scent, the sound of the two of them.

This was what she wanted, what she needed. She didn't want to think; not even about where to put her hands or how to move with him. She wanted to be taken; consumed. No preamble. No foreplay. No sweet words. There would be time for soft later.

 _Take me. Claim me._

Her body was pliant, willing, like clay being shaped by a master's touch. Hands on her hips he raised her just enough. He slid inside her. Delicious friction sent thrills down her spine, through her blood. Her legs spread wider, her body opening to accept him, molding around him. He surrounded her—body engulfing hers, his fingers twined tightly with her good hand over her head. She was lost in him, pinned by his weight. The air she breathed was made of his scent and his heat.

And god. It was good. _Yes. This. Consume me._

His lips at her neck, teeth sinking into her skin, he began to move in her. Long, slow strokes at first. He pulled back, the length of him sliding inside her, setting off every nerve ending, and pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt.

He overtook her senses. The noises he made—guttural grunts and soft sighs and the breathy, reverent sound of her name on his lips—were a symphony. The taste of the air, the scent of their skin, of sweat and sex, made for a heady mix; a drug that made her head swim. And the feel of him around her, inside her…

There were places in her that belonged to him. With each thrust, those places—desolate and cold—filled. A sense of perfect unity, of completeness washed over her, through her.

Her body was alive—made of pleasure and joy and the profound sense that something new was being created.

There was him and there was her. But as they moved together, there was them—an entity all its own, beautiful and bewildering. She understood what it was then to be one with another person.

All her life she'd believed one and one made two and yet here they were, wrapped up in each other body and soul.

And he was buried deep inside her. She gripped his fingers with her good hand, mouth open in a soundless wail as she lost herself to the ecstasy of it.

The blinding white light of her building orgasm chased away the dark uncertainty that had plagued her for so long. She came with a cry she muffled into the bedding—barely aware enough to remember where they were and that there was any world at all outside of him.

And when she caught her breath again, she found her world, spinning so relentlessly since she'd heard her soulmate sentence uttered by the wrong person, had righted itself. She was anchored, centered, in his arms.

"Safe," she whispered to herself.

"Mmm?" Edward's hum was muffled against the skin of her shoulder where he rested his head.

"Nothing. Go to sleep."

"Mmm," he agreed.

They slept.

 _ **~0~**_

When she woke again it was to the soft murmur of Edward's voice. She pressed back and frowned when she didn't come up against the resistance of his hard chest. Her eyes opened reluctantly, and when they focused, she was greeted by the sight of Edward sitting in a weird looking chair on the ground, his gaze intent on her and his phone to his ear.

"Thank you, Eleazar. I appreciate it," he said into the phone before he set it down on the ground beside him.

They stared at each other for a few beats. Bella bit the inside of her lip trying to keep a handle on the broad smile that threatened to stretch across her face.

What she felt for this man was a study in contrasts. The purity of the joy she felt was total and so innocent. A blush rose to her cheeks, and some shy part of her wanted to duck her head. Yet looking at him, she felt the demanding pull of attraction. The things she would do to him. The things she wanted him to do to her.

Well. Pure wasn't the word for all that.

The safety she'd found in his arms; the danger of giving herself over to another person. The snug certainty—nothing in her life had ever felt this right, this natural. At the same time, it stunned her. Surely an emotion like this couldn't be human—so mundane that almost every person in the world had felt it. She could fly with a love like this; it was utterly supernatural.

It was yin and yang.

He was her soulmate.

"Are you watching me while I sleep?" She arched an eyebrow, trying to sound stern despite the smile playing at her lips.

"Yes," he said, unabashed.

"Hmm." Bella touched the side of her cheek, just a touch self-conscious. "I hope I wasn't drooling."

"No drool." His grin widened. "You talk in your sleep. Did you know that?"

Her cheeks flushed. She had known that, of course, but having slept alone for many years now, it was something she'd conveniently forgotten. "What did I say?"

"You have a crush."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. You called out for some Edward character several times."

"Oh, him." She sighed, cuddling her pillow closer. "I'm a little obsessed with that guy."

"A little?"

She held up her hand, holding her thumb and pointer fingers an inch apart.

He stood and crossed the room, kneeling on the floor in front of her. He kissed the tip of her nose with a gentle pressure. "He's a little obsessed with you too. You know... In case you wondered."

She cupped the back of his neck, bringing his head down so she could nuzzle the scruff at his cheek. She stroked her fingers through his hair. "What did Eleazar want?"

"Hmm?" He seemed blissed out by the movement of her fingertips along his scalp. "He didn't want anything. I was asking him for something."

"Really?"

"That's typically the way the butler thing works."

"Ah. I always wondered, but having two working hands and two functioning legs I always preferred the get off my ass and do it myself method." She winked at him in case he didn't know she was joking.

He kissed her nose and then her lips sweetly. "But then I'd have to stop staring at you while you sleep."

"Creeper."

He traced the shape of her face with a feather soft touch. His gentle smile faltered as he skimmed over her neck, the vivid bruises there. "Did I…" He swallowed audibly. "Did I hurt you? When we… I wasn't as careful as I should have been."

There was that giddy rush again. That bubble of happiness so pure, she wanted to giggle with the joy of it. He was such a good man.

Bella opened her mouth to deny his words but reconsidered. There wasn't much she'd gotten right in her life so far. This, them, was important. She wasn't going to take that for granted just because he was her soulmate.

So, she wasn't going to lie to him. "Someone beat the shit out of me a few days ago." She sighed and cupped his cheek before he could duck his head. "You weren't the one who hurt me. I'm sore. I'm not broken. You gave me exactly what I needed."

He put a hand over hers against his cheek, stroking the ridges of her knuckles. "You are a little broken." He drew his fingers down her arm until he found her casted hand. "That's what I was talking to Eleazar about."

"About my broken wrist?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"I asked him to set a few things in the bathroom. In case you wanted to take a shower." He tilted his head. "Or a bath."

"Oh, a bath," she said with reverence. When was the last time she'd had a bath?

"If you take a bath, you won't have to wrap your wrist as long as we're careful." He stood and gestured with his head. "Come on. I'll help you."

Some minutes later Bella found herself in a bright, large bathroom, warm in a robe Edward had produced out of nowhere, watching as he filled the rounded tub. Steam curled up, making the air thick and pleasant, infused by the scent of the lavender bath oil he tipped into the hot water. She watched, chewing on her bottom lip.

He glanced at her and frowned. He stood and crossed to her, one hand on her shoulder as he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She sniffed hard and shook her head, stepping closer to him. "Just… I don't think anyone has run a bath for me."

"Ever?"

"Well. Maybe a nanny when I was a little kid." She looped her arms around him and leaned against his chest.

He gave her a squeeze and pulled away, leading her over to the tub. "Come on."

She watched with surprise as he got in the tub. Clad in only boxers, he sat on the ample lip at the head of the tub and patted his knee. Getting the idea, Bella shimmied out of her borrowed robe and stepped into the tub. Using his knee to keep her balance, she sat in the water, moaning as the perfect heat flowed over her skin. "That feels so good." Her aching body relaxed, and she leaned back against his legs.

He rubbed a spot behind her ears, soothing away a minor headache.

"You doing okay down there?" Edward asked, tone soft. He poured warm bath water from a cup over her tilted head to wet her hair.

Bella realized she'd been quiet for minutes. She breathed in the steam and lavender, searching for the right words, wondering if she should feel self-conscious. "I was thinking about whether or not I'm going to be any good at this whole relationship thing." She let out a low moan, blissed out as he worked shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp as he did. "You've done this before."

"This?" He chuckled. "I don't think I've ever given someone a bath before." He let his hands dip into the water, teasing the outline of her breasts. "I enjoy the view though."

"Not this." She flicked water at him. "You're just good at taking care of me. I don't know if I would have thought to do something like this for you."

"Bella." He cupped his hand under her chin and tilted her head up. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "You think you don't take care of me? What was the first thing you did the day we met? You fed a half starved, fresh out of prison stranger. You introduced me to my nephew. You're good to me, baby. You're good _for_ me."

She was pleased by the thought. Imagine that. Was there anyone else in the whole damn world whose life was made better because she was in it? What a novel concept, and one that would take some getting used to.

"I don't know if it would make you feel better, but in case it does, this is all new to me too." Edward's tone was even, as gentle as his hands as they moved over her hair, massaging conditioner in now.

"What's new? Relationships?" Bella furrowed her brow. "But you've been in them."

He sighed and chuckled. "Honey, that was so long ago. At least three versions of myself since the first relationship." He dipped his hands in the water, rinsing off the excess conditioner. "I think about relationships differently now than I used to."

"You were going to marry Tanya. That's pretty serious."

"Well, in terms of commitment, sure. We've had versions of this conversation. People get into relationships without thinking about the long term, without thinking about what partnership looks like. I was serious about Tanya. I loved her. But did that make me a good partner?" He scoffed. "Who would have chosen the man I was back then? A liar. And a cheat. A criminal."

Hands to her shoulders, he pushed forward gently. "Scoot up."

She did, and he slid into the tub behind her, boxers and all. He wrapped his arms around her, fingers skimming up her body as he buried his nose at her neck. "I need you to know that this, for me, is more, Bella." He pressed his lips to her cheek, her hair. "I'm not taking anything for granted. If this were about emotion only, about attraction and connection it would be a no-brainer. I fell in love with you before I knew I was supposed to. My heart and soul are yours. But none of that makes me a good partner for you."

"Edward—"

"Shh." His arms around her tightened. "It's okay. I'm saying, I don't know who I'm meant to be yet. I'm trying to be good. A good man. A good son." He swallowed hard, the sound loud in her ear. "If there ever comes a time I'm not good enough for you—"

"Edward," she admonished.

"You and I both know the soulmate thing doesn't make me enough."

She pulled away, craning her neck to glare at him. "And I chose you before that. I chose you of my own free will. Fuck destiny."

He grinned and kissed her cheek. "I know. And I'm not saying you were wrong. I'm saying I know I need to work for it. Work on me. Work on us."

"We both do." She had to smile, because hadn't she thought the same thing earlier? That she couldn't take anything for granted? She tilted her head back, kissing the underside of his jaw. "This is going to work."

"Oh?" He teased her lips with his. His fingers drew circles around her belly button under the water. "What makes you say that?"

She sighed, relishing in his touch, her body coming alive again easily, nerves lighting up one by one. "Neither of us know what we're doing," she whispered. "Who we're going to be. Same page. Same book." She raised her eyes to look in his. "I have to be good enough for you too. We can figure it out. Together."

"Together," he echoed as though trying the idea on for size.

"Assuming I don't get sent up for attempted murder anyway."

He shook his head, ducking to kiss her shoulder. "You won't." The words were firm—a promise.

"I know," she said, mostly believing it.

He pressed two fingers to her chin and tilted her head up again. He kissed her. And kissed her.

And as his hands drifted lower, teasing the inside of her thighs, she let that worry slip away and let her world shrink back down to him.

Them.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll see you as soon as I can. Take care of yourselves.**


End file.
